LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 


1840-1890 


INCLUDING   SOME   NOT   HITHERTO   PUBLISHED   OF 
LINCOLN  AND  THE  WAR 


BY 

L.  E.  OHITTEWDElSr 

AUTHOR  OF  "RECOLLECTIONS   OF  PRESIDENT   LINCOLN  AND   HIS 
ADMINISTRATION." 


NEW   YORK 

RICHMOND,    CROSCUP   &   CO. 
1893 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


COPYRIGHT,  1893,  BY 
RICHMOND,    CROSCUP    &   CO. 


[All  Rights  Reserved.] 


To 
EDWARD    J.    PHELPS, 

LAWYER,  STATESMAN,  AND  FELLOW-VERMONTER, 

AS  A 

MEMORIAL   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP 

WHICH   BEGAN   WHEN    WE   CAME  TO   THE   BAR, 
WHICH   HAS   SURVIVED   A   BUSINESS   COPARTNERSHIP 

AND   MANY   "TRIALS," 

WHICH    GROWS    CLOSER  WITH    THE    PASSING    YEARS,    AND 
PROMISES   TO    BE   INHERITED   BY   OUR   CHILDREN, 

1f  Dedicate  tbte  Dolume. 

THE    AUTHOR. 


PEEFAOE. 


IF  the  opinion  of  a  large  body  of  correspondents  is 
reliable,  the  reading-public  have  derived  some  pleas 
ure  from  my  "  Recollections  of  President  Lincoln  and 
his  Administration."  The  chief  attraction  of  that 
book  must  lie  in  its  great  central  figure.  If,  as  these 
correspondents  claim,  it  has  other  merits,  I  think 
they  are  comprised  in  the  fact  that  the  subjects  are 
personal,  and  each  is  treated  separately  in  a  chapter 
of  no  great  length.  It  was  also  my  purpose  to  describe 
persons  and  events  without  exaggeration  or  prejudice, 
just  as  they  appeared  to  me  at  the  time. 

The  present  volume  is  written  in  the  same  spirit 
and  on  the  same  plan.  While  it  lacks  the  great  cen 
tral  attraction  of  the  "  Recollections,"  I  sincerely  hope 
that  each  subject  will  be  found  to  possess  an  interest 
or  to  point  a  moral  which  will  justify  its  publication. 

I  have  an  impression  that  truth  is  just  as  attrac 
tive  in  a  book  as  it  is  in  the  ordinary  transactions  of 
life.  If  there  is  any  false  statement  of  fact  herein, 
it  has  escaped  my  notice  and  has  been  unintentionally 
made.  No  chronological  or  other  order  of  subjects 
has  been  attempted.  Observations  upon  birds  follow 


vi  PREFACE. 

remarks  upon  the  financial  policy  of  Secretary  Chase 
without  any  infringement  of  my  design.  Each 
chapter  except  the  "  Study"  is  substantially  complete 
in  itself,  and  must  stand  or  fall  upon  its  own  merits, 
I  offer  no  excuses,  I  do  not  attempt  to  forestall  criti 
cism.  If  any  chapter  is  unworthy  of  a  place  in  the 
literature  of  the  time,  I  have  simpty  made  an  error 
of  judgment  and  must  bear  the  penalty. 

I  shall  feel  greatly  disappointed  if  there  is  a  sen 
tence  in  it  which  shall  pain  any  reader  or  lead  him 
to  wish  that  the  volume  had  not  been  written.  It  is 
more  local  than  I  could  wish,  but  that  is  perhaps  un 
avoidable. 

The  "  Study"  which  closes  the  book  is  not  within 
its  original  scope.  It  is  an  attempt  to  show  what 
the  qualities  were  which  made  Mr.  Lincoln  great — 
which  as  a  political  leader,  an  orator,  a  writer  of  Eng 
lish  prose,  a  statesman,  a  military  strategist,  a  friend 
and  benefactor  of  humanity,  so  elevated  and  made 
him  the  foremost  man  of  his  time.  If  I  have  suc 
ceeded  only  partially,  I  have  shown  to  my  young 
countrymen  how  they  may  emulate  his  noble  pur 
poses  and  perpetuate  his  fame,  that — 

"  While  the  races  of  mankind  endure, 
So  shall  his  great  example  stand 
Colossal,  glorious,  seen  in  every  land 
To  keep  the  soldier  firm,  the  statesman  pure. " 

L.  E.  CHITTENDEN. 
NEW  YORK,  Feb.  1,  1893. 


COIsTTE^TTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.— THE   EARLIEST  FREE   SOIL  ORGANIZATION— THE 

ORIGIN  OF  THE  REPUBLICAN  PARTY,  ...      1 
II. — THE    VAN    BURENS — THE    NEW    YORK    BARN 
BURNERS,   11 

III.— THE  EARLY  BENCH  AND  BAR  OF  VERMONT,         .     18 

IV. — A  LESSON  IN  BANKING, 26 

V.— THE   THIRD   HOUSE    JOURNAL— How   WE    RE 
FORMED  LEGISLATION  IN  1850,    .        .        .        .33 
VI.— WOODEN  SIDE  JUDGES  OF  THE  COUNTY  COURTS,     43 
VII.— THE  VERMONT  FLOODWOOD  OR  RIGHT  ARM   OF 

HER  DEFENCE,   ....        .        .        .47 

VIII. — A  GRATEFUL  CLIENT, 53 

IX. — HYPNOTISM — SPIRITUAL  AND  OTHER  ISMS,     .        .     70 
X.— "THE  BEAUTIFUL  AMERICAN  NUN,"       ...     79 
XI.— SECRETARY  CHASE  AND  HIS  FINANCIAL  POLICY,    .     90 
XII.— SOME  NOTES  ABOUT  BIRDS— A   LESSON  IN  ENGI 
NEERING,     101 

XIII. — JUDGE  LYNCH — AN  INCIDENT  OF  EARLY  PACIFIC 

RAILROAD  TRAVEL, 114 

XIV.— JUDGE  LYNCH,    CONTINUED— AN  EXPERIENCE  IN 

A  WESTERN  MINING -CAMP,        .        .        .        .126 
XV.— ADIRONDACK  DAYS— UNTRIED  COMPANIONS  IN  THE 

WILDERNESS — THEIR  PERILS  AND  EXPERIENCES,  139 
XVI.  — THE  STORY  OF  MITCHELL  SABATTIS,      .        .        .151 
XVII.— THE  ADIRONDACK   REGION— A  WARNING  TO  THE 

DESTROYER— A  PLEA  FOR  THE  PERISHING,        .  159 


viii  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVIII.— NOVEMBER   DAYS   ON  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN— THE 

STORY  OF  HIRAM  BRAMBLE,  .        .        .        .169 

XIX.— DUCK-SHOOTING  IN  EAST  CREEK,      .        .        .175 

XX.— A  COLD  MORNING  ON  BULLWAGGA  BAY,  .        .  182 

XXI.— QUACKS  AND  QUACKERY, 186 

XXII.— ESSEX  JUNCTION, 198 

XXIII.  — THE  HUMOR  AND  MISCHIEF  OF  THE  JUNIOR  BAR 

—OUR  ANNUAL  BAR  FESTIVAL,      .        .        .205 

XXIV.— OWLS,  FALCONS,  AND  EAGLES,          .        .        .  221 

XXV.— NOVEL  EXPERIENCES  IN  OFFICIAL  LIFE,    .        .  228 

XXVI.— THE  DEATH  OF  LINCOLN, 236 

XXVII.— SAVANNAH  IN  WINTER  AND  IN  WAR,        .        .  246 
XXVIII. —TEACHING  SCHOOL  ON  HOG  ISLAND— ITS  AD 
VANTAGES  AND  PLEASANT  MEMORIES,    .        .  269 
XXIX.— THE  BOOK  CHASE— NON- EXISTENCE  OF  UNIQUE 
COPIES — A    HUNT    FOR    "SANDERS'    INDIAN 
WARS"  AND   "THE    CONTRAST,"  THE  FIRST 
AMERICAN  PLAY — STOLEN  ENGRAVINGS   AND 

DRAWINGS, 279 

XXX. — SOME  MEN   WHOM  I   KNEW   IN   WASHINGTON 

DURING  THE  ClVIL  WAR,          .  .  .  .303 

XXXI.— LAW    AS    A   PROGRESSIVE  SCIENCE  — Is  PRO 
GRESS  ALWAYS  AN  ADVANCE  ? — CIRCUMSTAN 
TIAL  EVIDENCE — THE  BOORN  CASE,      .        .  328 
XXXII.  — ABRAHAM    LINCOLN  :    A  STUDY — His    ORIGIN 

AND  EARLY  LIFE, 340 

XXXIII.— ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  (CONTINUED)  :  His  FAIL 
URES — THE  FARM  LABORER  ;  THE  FLAT- BOAT 
MAN  ;  THE  FIGHTER  ;  THE  MERCHANT  ;  THE 
SURVEYOR, 349 

XXXIV. — ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  (CONTINUED)  :  His  SUC 
CESSES — THE  LAWYER  ;  THE  ADVOCATE  ;  THE 
POPULAR  MAN, 356 

XXXV. — ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  (CONTINUED)  :  THE  ORA 
TOR  ;  THE  CANDIDATE  ;  THE  MAN  OF  THE 
PEOPLE,  ....  .367 


CONTENTS.  ix 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXXVI. — ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  (CONTINUED)  :  His  ELEC 
TION  ;  HIS  PREPARATION  AND  HIS  PROMISES,  379 

XXXVII. — ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  (CONTINUED)  :  THE  DIPLO 
MATIST  ;  THE  MILITARY  STRATEGIST  ;  THE 
MASTER  OF  ENGLISH  PROSE  ;  THE  STATESMAN  ; 
THE  GREAT  PRESIDENT,  ....  394 

XXXVIII.— ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  (CONTINUED)  :  THE  MAN 

FULL  OF  FAITH  AND  POWER,  .  .  .  409 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  EARLIEST    FREE    SOIL   ORGANIZATION — THE 
ORIGIN  OF  THE  REPUBLICAN  PARTY. 

IT  is  April,  1848.  The  Mexican  War  is  ended. 
Shall  the  territory  which  we  made  the  war  to  acquire 
—vast  enough  in  itself  for  a  republic — remain  free, 
or  shall  it  be  surrendered  to  the  domination  of  the 
slave  power?  This  had  been  the  burning  question. 
We  had  hoped  it  was  settled  by  the  Wilmot  Proviso, 
which  declared  that  neither  slavery  nor  involuntary 
servitude,  except  for  crime,  should  ever  exist  there. 
We  were  now  to  learn  that,  touching  the  peculiar  in 
stitution,  nothing  was  to  be  regarded  as  settled,  un 
less  it  was  settled  in  the  Southern  way.  The  slave 
power  had  secured  control  of  the  Democratic  party. 
In  the  name  of  that  party  it  had  hinted  at  a  pro 
gramme  which  involved  the  abrogation  of  the  Wil 
mot  Proviso,  and  between  its  lines  could  be  read 
faint  indications  of  measures  which  did  not  mature 
until  six  years  later.  Of  these,  "Squatter  Sover 
eignty"  was  the  most  obvious.  This  doctrine  de 
clared  that  the  people  ought  to  settle  the  status  of  a 
State  as  between  freedom  and  slavery,  after  it  was 
admitted  into  the  Federal  Union.  But  "Squatter 
1 


2  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

Sovereignty"  involved  the  repeal  of  the  Missouri 
Compromise  of  1820,  which  declared  that  slavery 
should  not  exist  north  of  latitude  36°  30';  for  how 
could  the  people  decide  in  favor  of  slavery  if  it  were 
already  excluded  by  an  irrepealable  law?  There 
were  also  occasional  suggestions  from  the  South  of  a 
stringent  law  for  the  capture  and  return  of  fugitives 
from  slavery,  and  of  the  principles  established  after 
ward  in  the  Dred  Scott  case,  as  additional  planks  in 
the  Democratic  platform. 

It  was  not  a  favorable  time  for  the  slave  power  to 
assert  new  claims,  especially  in  Vermont.  While 
the  Liberty  party  had  never  attained  great  numer 
ical  strength  there,  and  its  leaders  were  generally 
regarded  as  dangerous  extremists,  there  were  many 
good  Democrats  as  well  as  Whigs  who  could  not  but 
respect  such  men  as  William  Lloyd  Garrison,  James 
G.  Birney,  and  Gerritt  Smith,  however  much  they 
might  differ  from  them  as  to  the  means  by  which 
v  their  purposes  were  to  be  accomplished.  Their  dif 
ferences  were  of  degree  rather  than  principle.  The 
New  Englanders  generally  would  have  said:  "Let 
slavery  be  content  with  its  present  possessions — we 
will  not  concern  ourselves  with  it  where  it  has  been 
established  by  law.  But  freedom  is  the  natural  right 
and  normal  condition  of  the  human  race.  Not  one 
square  inch  of  territory,  now  free,  shall  ever  be 
darkened  by  the  pall  of  slavery  with  our  consent,  nor 
without  overcoming  all  the  lawful  resistance  we  can 
interpose."  The  Abolitionists,  however,  insisted  that 
slavery  had  no  rights  and  that  it  ought  to  be  every 
where  abolished. 

In  fact,  slavery  itself  was  cordially  detested  by  the 
people  of  the  Green  Mountains,     They  inherited  their 


THE    FIRST    FREE    SOIL    PARTY.  3 

love  of  freedom  from  their  ancestors.  Like  Abraham 
Lincoln  in  his  younger  days,  the  thought  of  slavery 
made  them  uncomfortable.  There  had  been  a  very 
warm  spot  in  their  hearts  for  the  hunted  fugitive 
ever  since  Revolutionary  days,  when  Capt.  Ebenezer 
Allen,  "conscientious  that  it  is  not  right  in  the  sight 
of  God  to  keep  slaves, "  gave  to  Dinah  Mattis  and  her 
infant,  slaves  captured  from  the  enemy,  their  deed 
of  emancipation;  and  Judge  Harrington  decided 
against  the  title  of  the  slave-master,  because  he 
could  not  show  a  deed  from  the  original  proprietor — 
Almighty  God !  From  the  day  when  the  name  of 
the  State  was  first  adopted,  no  slave  had  been  taken 
away  from  Vermont  against  his  will.  The  fugitive 
who  set  foot  upon  her  soil  was  from  that  moment 
safe  if  he  was  not  free.  Her  North  and  South  roads 
were  underground  railroads,  and  there  were  few 
houses  upon  them  where  the  escaped  slave  was  not 
provided  with  rest,  food,  and  clothing,  and  assisted 
on  his  way.  There  were  Democrats  who  would  send 
their  teams  to  carry  the  fugitives  northward,  while 
they  themselves  walked  to  a  convention  to  shout 
for  Douglas,  and  resolve  that  slavery  must  not  bo 
interfered  with  in  the. States  where  it  existed  by 
law. 

Just  about  this  time  the  Democratic  party  of  the 
North  gave  way,  and  intimated  its  willingness  to 
make  the  concessions  which  the  Southern  wing  of 
the  party  began  openly  to  demand.  Chief  among 
these  was  the  rejection  of  the  Wilmot  Proviso,  and  ac^ 
ceptance  of  the  doctrine  of  "Squatter  Sovereignty." 
The  proximity  of  Missouri  and  Arkansas  would  enable 
their  temporary  emigrants  to  decide  that  slavery 
should  be  lawful  in  Kansas  and  Nebraska ;  and  the 


4  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

obstructions  being  removed  from  California  and  New 
Mexico,  any  one  with  half  an  eye  could  see  that  the 
Missouri  Compromise  would  be  swept  away,  and 
the  whole  region  west  of  the  "  Father  of  the  Waters  " 
would  become  slave  territory. 

To  such  concessions  there  were  many  Northern 
Democrats  who  objected,  and  some  who  answered 
"  No !  Never !  "  Just  then  the  Democratic  State  Con 
vention  was  called  to  meet  at  Montpelier,  and  the 
leading  Democratic  newspaper,  published  at  the 
State  capital,  announced  that  the  convention  would 
incorporate  the  new  doctrines  into  the  Democratic 
platform.  The  paper  spoke  as  one  having  authority, 
declaring  that  the  Wilmot  Proviso  was  a  violation  of 
the  Federal  Constitution. 

I  was  one  of  the  recalcitrant  Democrats  and  a  dele 
gate  from  Burlington  to  that  convention.  On  the 
day  it  met  I  should  complete  my  twenty-fourth  year. 
I  had  been  practising  at  the  bar  somewhat  over  three 
years  and  was  (in  my  own  opinion)  a  much  greater 
constitutional  lawyer  than  I  have  at  any  time  since 
been  considered  by  myself  or  other  competent  judges. 
I  felt  perfectly  qualified  to  discuss  the  constitu 
tional  question  involved  in  the  Proviso.  The  more 
I  examined  the  authorities  the  clearer  the  question 
seemed,  until  I  arrived  at  the  condition  of  mind 
where  I  regarded  this  new  demand  as  a  piece  of  cool 
impudence  on  the  part  of  the  pro-slavery  Democracy. 

I  found  that  other  delegates  to  the  convention 
were  of  the  same  temper.  One  of  them  was  Charles 
D.  Kasson,  a  lawyer  of  Burlington  and  an  elder 
brother  of  John  A.  Kasson,  afterward  of  Iowa.  The 
elder  Kasson  was  as  solid,  reliable,  and  generous  a 
citizen  and  friend  as  ever  existed.  He  was  removed 


THE    FIRST    FREE    SOIL   PARTY.  5 

by  death  only  a  few  years  later,  and  his  loss  was  felt 
not  only  by  the  circle  of  his  personal  friends,  but  by 
the  community. 

With  Kasson  I  promptly  decided  that  if  the  con 
vention  committed  itself  in  favor  of  Squatter  Sover 
eignty  and  against  the  Wilmot  Proviso,  we  would 
leave  it  and  raise  the  standard  of  FREE  SOIL.  We 
corresponded  with  other  delegates  and  invited  them 
to  join  us  in  the  revolt.  Many  of  the  younger  Dem 
ocrats  were,  like  ourselves,  indignant  at  the  new 
dictation.  But  when  it  came  to  the  question  of  leav 
ing  the  party  they  (nearly)  "  all  with  one  consent  be 
gan  to  make  excuse."  We  found  only  four  who 
where  willing  to  unite  in  heroic  measures.  These 
were  Edward  D.  Barber,  of  Middlebury,  Charles  I. 
Walker  and  Charles  K.  Field,  of  Windham,  and  A. 
J.  Rowell,  of  Orleans  County.  Barber  was  a  great 
hearted  man,  full  of  fun  and  frolic,  but  with  a  soul 
stirred  to  its  depths  by  any  story  of  cruelty  or  op 
pression.  He  was  a  born  anti-slavery  man.  Walker 
was  an  able  lawyer,  who  shortly  after  removed  to 
Detroit,  where  he  soon  became  the  leader  of  the  bar. 
Field  was  a  lawyer  of  great  natural  ability,  full  of  a 
grim  humor  and  with  a  tongue  as  sharp  and  caustic 
as  that  of  John  Randolph.  Rowell  was  like  Zac- 
cheus,  little  of  stature,  but  great  in  push  and  energy. 
The  qualities  of  the  sixth  party  to  the  agreement 
were  as  may  hereafter  appear. 

The  six  members  referred  to  had  a  conference  in 
Montpelier  the  evening  before  the  convention.  We 
agreed  to  go  into  the  convention  after  we  had  noti 
fied  the  State  Committee  of  our  purpose  to  withdraw 
if  the  design  of  adding  the  new  planks  to  the  plat 
form  were  persisted  in.  Possibly  because  I  was  the 


6  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

youngest,  to  me  was  assigned  the  duty  of  delivering 
our  valedictory  and  leading  the  revolt. 

We  called  upon  the  State  Committee  in  the  morn 
ing  and  were  treated  with  contempt.  At  ten  o'clock 
the  convention  was  called  to  order.  From  the  tem 
porary  and  permanent  organization  and  the  Commit 
tee  on  Resolutions  we  were,  as  we  had  anticipated, 
excluded.  The  last-named  committee  met  in  a  cor 
ner  of  the  hall ;  the  resolutions  which  had  been  pre 
pared  by  authority  were  immediately  reported  to  the 
convention.  They  were  anti-Proviso  and  pro-Squat 
ter  Sovereignty  in  their  most  objectionable  form. 

I  arose  to  make  my  first,  my  last,  and  my  only 
speech  in  a  Democratic  convention.  I  began  with 
the  statement  that  the  resolutions  made  the  Demo 
cratic  party  of  Vermont  say  that  our  free  republic 
had  not  the  power  to  maintain  its  own  freedom ;  that 
if  it  was  a  violation  of  the  Constitution  to  preserve 
the  freedom  of  the  territory  acquired  from  Mexico,  it 
was  an  equal  violation  of  that  instrument  to  exclude 
slavey  from  the  northwest  territory.  That  I  would 
not  venture  to  question  the  conclusions  of  the  great 
constitutional  lawyers  of  the  Committee  on  Resolu 
tions,  but  I  would  read  a  section  or  two  from  a  law 
book  of  some  authority  which  was  diametrically  op 
posed  to  the  conclusions  of  the  committee.  The  book 
was  called  Kent's  Commentaries,  was  written  by  a 
lawyer  of  some  authority  in  his  day,  and  I  read  from 
it,  not  to  resist  the  resolutions,  but  to  show  in  what 
wholesale  and  ignorant  blunders  the  committee  had 
detected  John  Marshall,  Story,  and  James  Kent.  I 
then  read  an  extract  from  a  letter  of  Mr.  Madison  to 
another  member  of  the  convention  that  framed  the 
Constitution,  thereby  showing  that  the  makers  of 


THE    FIRST    FREE    SOIL    PARTY.  7 

that  instrument  did  not  know  what  they  were  about, 
for  they  supposed  that  the  absolute  control  of  the 
territories  had  been  vested  in  Congress.  This  satire 
produced  an  uneasy  feeling  in  the  convention.  Throw 
ing  it  aside,  I  now,  with  all  the  earnestness  of  which 
I  was  master,  exclaimed,  "  You  who  assert  the  power 
of  leadership  are  making  it  impossible  for  a  Yer- 
monter  who  respects  himself  to  remain  in  the  Dem 
ocratic  party.  Your  resolutions  prostitute  that  party 
to  the  service  of  the  slave  power.  Our  ancestors 
fought  two  states  and  a  kingdom,  through  cold  and 
poverty  and  hunger,  for  almost  twenty  years,  to  se 
cure  a  place  where  Yermont  was  the  equal  of  any 
State  in  the  Federal  Union.  Your  resolutions  are  un 
worthy  of  their  descendants.  Pass  them,  and  with 
my  associates  I  leave  this  hall  for  the  time  being 
and  the  Democratic  party  forever,  unless  it  is  re 
deemed  from  its  present  vassalage  and  restored  to 
its  former  principles  and  dignity." 

When  I  took  my  seat  there  was  for  some  moments 
an  oppressive  silence,  followed  at  last  by  what  ap 
peared  to  be  a  burst  of  genuine  applause. 

But  an  ancient  Democrat,  whose  mind  was  imper 
vious  to  argument,  then  arose  and  observed  that  as 
"  the  boy  had  spoke  his  piece,  we  might  as  well  pro 
ceed  to  the  business  of  the  convention."  No  one  else 
spoke.  There  was  a  subdued  affirmative  vote  and  a 
sharp  "No"  from  the  six  to  the  resolutions.  We 
did  not  challenge  the  vote,  the  chairman  declared  the 
resolutions  carried,  and  the  opposition  party  of  six 
walked  out  of  the  convention.  There  was  an  effort 
to  raise  a  hiss.  It  failed,  and  we  took  our  departure 
in  a  profound  and  unbroken  silence. 

We  crossed  the  street  to  the  Pavilion  Hotel,  en- 


8  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

tered  the  room  we  had  occupied,  and  closed  the  door. 
Barber  was  requested  to  take  the  chair  and  Rowell 
to  act  as  secretary.  Field  arose,  saying  that  he  had 
a  motion  to  make  which  he  had  committed  to  writ 
ing.  It  was  brief  but  comprehensive.  "  I  move,"  he 
read,  "  that  we  organize  a  new  party  to  be  called  the 
'  FREE  SOIL  PARTY  ; '  that  its  platform  shall  be  un 
compromising  resistance  to  the  extension  of  slavery 
or  the  slave  power ;  that  we  select  a  State  Committee 
of  five  persons ;  that  we  establish  a  weekly  newspaper 
to  be  published  in  Burlington  and  called  the  Free 
Soil  Courier;  that  we  assess  ourselves  for  money 
enough  to  pay  for  publishing  four  numbers ;  that  we 
name  its  editors;  that  the  first  number  be  issued  as 
early  as  it  can  be  prepared,  and  that  it  contain  our 
address  to  the  people  of  Vermont." 

There  was  no  discussion,  for  the  motion  was  drawn 
after  our  consultation  of  the  previous  evening.  It 
was  passed  at  once  nem.  con.,  and  the  first  Free  Soil 
party  formed  in  this  republic,  and  out  of  the  loins 
of  which  came  the  most  effective  political  organiza 
tion  witnessed  by  the  nineteenth  century — the  grand 
old  Republican  party — was  organized. 

Field  was  then  appointed  to  write  the  address. 
Edward  A.  Stansbury,  an  active,  young  anti-slavery 
Whig,  was  in  the  hotel.  He  was  sent  for,  came, 
and,  after  our  action  was  explained,  agreed  to  join 
us  and  to  become  the  temporary  editor  of  the  Cour 
ier.  "We  then  subscribed  fifty  dollars  each  to  the 
publication  fund,  and  adjourned  in  time  for  an  early 
dinner.  Before  the  arrival  of  the  daily  stage  for 
Burlington  (for  Vermont  had  no  railroads  then) 
Field  had  completed  his  address  to  the  people.  It 
was  read,  amended,  and  adopted.  I  was  named  as 


THE    FIRST   FREE   SOIL   PARTY.  9 

chairman  and  Stansbury  as  a  member  of  the  State 
Committee,  and  we  were  authorized  to  name  the 
three  remaining  members — two  from  the  old  Whig 
and  one  from  the  Democratic  party. 

As  I  write  after  the  lapse  of  forty-five  years,  the 
scenes  of  that  day  come  back  to  me  with  vivid  dis 
tinctness.  Except  myself  all  the  actors  have  gone 
over  to  the  great  majority.  For  a  few  moments  I 
call  back  Barber,  his  round,  moon-like  face  beaming 
with  delight  as  he  croons  the  death-song  of  the  Dem 
ocratic  party  which  he  is  composing.  Stansbury, 
his  sharp  eyes  sparkling  through  his  gold-rimmed 
spectacles,  is  hunting  for  some  one  whom  he  may 
"  pitch  into, "  always  preferring  a  "  Hunker. "  Eowell, 
expert  with  the  pen,  is  making  a  list  of  our  probable 
recruits  to  whom  the  Courier  is  to  be  sent.  Field, 
saturnine  and  solemn,  declares  that,  as  he  contem 
plates  the  wreck  of  the  Democracy,  he  for  the  first 
time  understands  the  sensations  of  Marius  surrounded 
by  the  ruins  of  Carthage.  He  would  prefer  a  nice, 
fresh  ruin  with  an  agreeable  odor,  he  declares,  for 
those  of  the  Democracy  have  a  stale  and  graveyard 
kind  of  smell;  while  Walker  recommends  to  Henry 
Stevens,  of  Barnet,  that  as  those  ruins  are  already 
desiccated,  he  should  gather  them  up  and  deposit 
them  in  his  receptacle  for  things  lost  upon  earth. 
Even  now  there  is  a  sensation  of  fun  about  the  whole 
affair,  for  we  were  all  then  enjoying  life  in  the 
freshness  and  vigor  of  that  youth  which,  alas !  never 
returns. 

We  never  paid  our  subscriptions  to  the  Free  Soil 
Courier.  On  the  first  day  of  August  Stansbury 
brought  out  the  first  number.  It  was  so  racy  that 
the  old  hand-press  upon  which  it  was  printed  was 


10  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

kept  running  until  it  was  wanted  for  the  second 
number.  Subscriptions  for  the  twelve  numbers  to 
be  issued  before  the  November  elections  came  in  so 
rapidly  that  the  enterprise  was  a  paying  one  from 
the  start. 

I  am  aware  that  it  is  the  prevailing  opinion  that 
there  were  no  organizations  of  the  Free  Soil  party 
in  the  New  England  States  until  after  the  Buffalo 
convention,  held  in  August,  1848.  Even  Henry 
Wilson,  who  is  usually  accurate,  fell  into  that  error. 
Our  organization  had  been  in  active  operation  for 
six  weeks  before  the  Buffalo  convention  was  called. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE   VAN  BURENS — THE  NEW  YORK  BARN 
BURNERS. 

IN  June,  1848,  the  feud  between  the  Barn-Burners 
and  the  Hunkers  of  New  York  was  at  fever  heat. 
The  Evening  Post  was  the  organ,  "  Prince "  John 
Van  Buren  the  recognized  leader  of  the  Barn -Burners. 
One  of  the  first  and  most  encouraging  evidences  that 
our  movement  begun  at  Montpelier  was  attracting 
attention  was  a  letter  from  William  C.  Bryant,  then 
chief  editor  of  the  Evening  Post,  urging  us  to 
persevere  and  either  nominate  a  State  ticket  or  adopt 
the  candidates  of  the  Liberty  party.  We  had  already 
determined  to  adopt  those  candidates,  for  they  were 
men  of  worth  and  ability. 

During  the  last  week  in  June  I  received  a  letter 
from  John  Van*  Buren  urging  me  to  come  to  Albany 
on  the  1st  of  July.  On  reaching  that  city,  I  was, 
on  the  morning  of  July  2d,  introduced  to  a  party 
of  gentlemen,  some  of  whom  I  think  have  been  mem 
bers  of  about  every  political  party  which  has  since 
been  formed.  I  cannot  now  recall  the  names  of  all 
of  them.  "  Prince  "  John  Van  Buren  was  by  com 
mon  consent  the  leader.  I  remember  also  N.  S.  Ben- 
ton,  at  one  time  Secretary  of  State,  Judge  James,  of 
Ogdensburgh,  and  CassidjT,  afterward  editor  of  the 
Albany  Atlas,  at  first  a  Free  Soil  sheet,  but  after 
ward  transferred  with  its  editor  to  the  Argus,  an 

11 


12  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

ultra-Hunker  journal.  There  too  I  first  met  Will 
iam  Curtis  Noyes,  and  formed  a  friendship  inter 
rupted  only  by  his  death.  He  appeared  to  be  a 
genuine  lover  of  freedom,  a  sharp  fighter,  and  a  de 
termined,  but  fair  and  honorable  opponent  of  the 
slave  power.  Among  the  party  there  was  also  an 
other  young  lawyer  from  New  York  City.  He  was 
said  to  be  an  immense  card — a  man  of  extraordinary 
brilliancy  and  adroitness.  He  had  just  written 
some  excoriation  of  the  Hunkers  which  had  given 
him  great  eclat.  His  name  was  Samuel  J.  Tilden. 
He  was  understood  to  breathe  no  atmosphere  that  was 
'  not  saturated  with  hatred  of  the  Hunker  Democracy. 
//|  It  was  very  apparent  at  the  first  meeting  that  the 
object  of  these  gentlemen  was  to  defeat  General 
Cass  rather  than  to  restrict  slavery.  Cass  had  re 
ceived  the  Democratic  nomination  for  the  Presidency 
and  was  supported  by  the  Hunker  wing  of  the  New 
York  Democracy.  The  Barn-Burners  had  bolted  his 
nomination,  and  had  decided  to  hold  another  conven 
tion  and  nominate  ex-President  Van  Buren  on  a 
Free  Soil  platform.  The  purpose  of  the  meeting  at 
Albany  was  to  frame  the  call  and  fix  the  time  for 
that  convention,  and  the  grave  question  for  decision 
was  whether  the  call  should  be  made  broad  enough 
to  invite  such  men  as  Charles  Sumner  and  Charles 
Francis  Adams,  who  had  never  been  either  Democrats 
>r  Abolitionists. 

The  question  seemed  to  be  one  of  policy.  If  these 
men  were  excluded,  the  convention  would  be  held  by 
the  Barn-Burners  only.  This  party  had  little  strength 
outside  the  State  of  New  York — not  enough,  it  was 
feared,  to  defeat  General  Cass  if  it  was  exerted  for  a 
third  candidate.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Barn-Burners 


THE   VAN    BURENS.  13 

were  loyal  to  the  Constitution  and  would  not  affil 
iate  with  men  who  believed  in  disregarding  its  pro 
visions  as  the  Abolitionists  were  quite  prepared  to 
do.  Tilden  seemed  to  be  the  leader  of  those  who 
favored  a  restricted  call,  Mr.  Noyes  of  the  Liberals, 
while  John  Van  Buren  had  not  yet  declared  himself 
either  way. 

For  two  days  the  debate  went  on.  Toward  even 
ing  it  became  acrimonious,  but  the  inimitable  humor 
of  Prince  John  and  the  excellent  dinners  he  gave  us 
at  a  private  residence  on  Capitol  Hill  restored  har 
mony.  We  had  reached  cigars  at  the  dinner  on  the 
3d  of  July,  when,  as  if  the  idea  had  just  struck 
him,  the  Prince  exclaimed :  "  Let  us  adjourn  this  de 
bate  and  go  to  the  theatre !  To-morrow  morning  we 
will  drive  down  to  Linden wald  and  spend  the  Fourth 
with  father.  He  shall  give  us  a  good  dinner  and 
help  us  to  a  settlement  of  this  question." 

The  proposal  met  with  universal  favor.  I  had  all 
the  curiosity  of  youth  for  a  near  view  of  the  ex- 
President,  which  I  may  here  say  was  the  more 
interesting  since  it  was  the  only  one  I  ever  had.  I 
did  not  feel  much  interest  in  the  question,  for  its  de 
cision  either  way  would  not  modify  our  action.  But 
there  were  others  who  thought  that  it  was  prudent, 
in  a  matter  of  so  much  importance,  to  avail  them 
selves  of  the  wisdom  and  experience  of  the  sage  of 
Kinderhook. 

Early  the  next  morning  Prince  John  called  at  my 
hotel,  himself  driving  a  pair  of  horses  and  a  light 
Concord  wagon.  He  insisted  that  I  should  carry 
my  portmanteau,  as  we  might  pass  the  night  else 
where  than  in  Albany. 

That  drive  was  as  delightful  as  the  subsequent 


14  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

visit,  and  both  were  memorable.  The  road,  along 
which  we  bowled  at  a  speed  of  nearly  ten  miles  an 
hour,  was  shaded  almost  the  entire  distance  from  the 
rays  of  the  summer  sun,  and  so  lively  and  amusing 
was  my  companion  that  I  was  unconscious  of  the 
lapse  of  time,  nor  can  I  now  tell  the  length  of  the 
drive.  His  mind  seemed  preoccupied  by  General 
Cass.  I  learned  how  sharp  hits  were  made  in  public 
speeches,  for  he  was  to  make  an  address  somewhere 
about  General  Cass,  and  for  a  part  of  the  drive  he 
was  employed  in  casting  and  recasting  the  figures  of 
speech  to  be  used  in  the  delineation  of  his  person  and 
character.  Brilliant  as  he  was,  I  discovered  that  the 
best  of  his  apparently  impromptu  expressions  were 
the  fruit  of  very  careful  preparation. 

I  was  disappointed  in  the  linden  trees  that  gave 
their  name  to  the  country  home  of  the  venerable  ex- 
President.  We  would  have  called  them  in  Vermont 
rather  inferior  bass-woods.  But  with  the  hearty 
welcome  which  shone  from  the  sunny  face  of  the 
active,  sprightly  man  who  met  us  at  his  gate  and 
threw  his  arms  around  the  neck  of  his  stalwart  son, 
I  was  charmed  and  delighted.  How  plain  of  speech 
are  the  eye  and  the  arm !  There  was  all  the  fervor 
of  boyhood  in  the  meeting  of  this  distinguished  son 
with  an  honored  father.  It  told  of  a  mutual  love, 
warm,  cheering,  and  unbroken,  from  the  cradle  of 
the  one  to  the  waiting  tomb  of  the  other.  Some 
might  have  deemed  them  careless  of  each  other's 
sensibilities.  All  that  day  they  hurled  their  shafts 
of  wit  at  each  other,  but  the  closest  observer  could 
discover  no  instant  in  which  the  Attorney -General 
of  New  York  forgot  the  respect  due  to  his  honored 
father  and  the  ex- President  of  the  United  States. 


THE   VAN    BURENS.  15 

In  addition  to  his  guests  from  Albany,  several  of 
his  neighbors  called  upon  Mr.  Van  Buren,  and  the 
day  passed  in  political  and  general  conversation  in 
his  pleasant  grounds.  I  had  an  experience  of  that 
marvellous  influence  which  our  host  was  reported  to 
exercise  over  those  with  whom  he  came  in  contact. 
His  first  inquiry  of  me  was  concerning  a  Vermonter 
for  whom  I  had  a  high  esteem. 

"William  C.  Bradley  and  I  entered  Congress  to 
gether,"  he  said,  "and  Mr.  Bradley  but  for  his  deaf 
ness  would  have  been  the  more  successful  man.  He 
had  no  superior  intellectually,  and  was  the  peer  of 
any  member  of  either  House." 

He  spoke  of  Judges  Phelps  and  Collamer  and  also 
of  Judge  Chipman  in  terms  so  complimentary  that  I 
was  proud  of  Vermont  and  charmed  with  Mr.  Van 
Buren.  Although  our  host  was  probably  informed 
of  the  occasion  of  our  visit,  the  day  passed  without 
any  reference  to  it.  After  a  delightful  dinner  the 
cloth  was  removed,  and  then  Prince  John  made  a 
brief  but  entirely  fair  statement  of  the  point  of  dif 
ference.  William  Curtis  Noyes,  who  was  a  master 
of  the  art  of  concise  statement,  gave  the  reasons  on 
one  side,  and  Mr.  Tilden  on  the  other.  There  was  a 
very  mischievous  twinkle  in  the  eyes  of  the  ex-Pres 
ident  as  he  said : 

"  I  am  delighted  with  your  success,  Mr.  Tilden.  I 
was  not  aware  before  that  the  Barn-Burners  were  so 
strong." 

"  I  have  said  nothing  about  our  strength,  Mr.  Van 
Buren !  "  replied  Mr.  Tilden. 

"True;  you  have  only  implied  it,"  answered  our 
host.  "  You  must  be  very  strong  if  you  are  already 
picking  and  choosing  from  the  recruits  who  offer 


16  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

themselves  for  enlistment.  I  had  supposed  that  we 
wanted  every  man  who  was  opposed  to  the  extension 
of  slavery.  Would  it  not  be  well  first  of  all  to  defeat^ 
General  Cass,  and  show  the  pro-slavery  party  that 
they  shall  not  invade  free  soil?  To  that  end,  is  not 
the  vote  of  Gerritt  Smith  just  as  weighty  as  that  of 
Judge  Martin  Grover?  "  / 

A  brief  silence  followed,  broken  at  length  by  Mr. 
Tilden. 

"  I  had  half  converted  myself,"  he  said.  "  Mr.  Van 
Buren  is  to  be  our  candidate.  His  opinion  is  obvi 
ous.  Unless  some  gentleman  wishes  to  discuss  the 
subject  farther,  I  move  the  adoption  of  the  call  for  a 
national  Free  Soil  Convention  presented  by  Mr. 
Noyes,  and  that  the  convention  be  held  at  Buffalo  on 
the  9th  day  of  August." 

There  were  several  seconds,  and  the  motion  was 
unanimously  adopted.  Our  mission  was  ended.  Sub 
sequent  events  are  now  historical.  The  convention 
was  held,  Mr.  Van  Buren  was  nominated  and  after 
a  sharp  campaign  General  Cass  was  defeated  and 
General  Taylor  elected. 

I  recall  one  of  the  incidents  of  our  dinner  at  Lin 
den  wald  which  serves  to  illustrate  the  unconventional 
relations  which  existed  between  the  ex-President  and 
his  son.  The  plate  set  before  me  for  one  of  the 
courses  was  most  exquisitely  decorated,  and  with  the 
gaucherie  of  an  inexperienced  curiosity  I  could  not 
resist  the  temptation  to  turn  it  over  and  look  for  the 
maker's  mark. 

"  Is  not  that  a  beautiful  piece  of  china?  "  inquired 
the  Prince.  "  It  has  a  history.  It  belongs  to  a  din 
ner  set  made  at  Sevres  for  the  King  of  Italy  before 
the  fall  of  Napoleon.  I  discovered  it  in  Paris,  and 


THE    VAN    BURENS.  17 

although  it  was  expensive,  I  purchased  it  and  pre 
sented  it  to  my  father.  Ought  he  not  to  be  grateful 
for  such  a  magnificent  present?  " 

"Indeed  I  am  grateful,"  said  the  ex-President, 
"  perhaps  more  grateful  for  this  than  for  another  pres 
ent  you  made  me  about  the  same  time." 

"Another  present!  What  was  it?  I  do  not  re 
member  it,"  said  his  son. 

"  It  was  a  bill  of  exchange  for  acceptance  for  more 
than  the  cost  of  the  china !  "  replied  the  elder. 

"  Yes !  yes !  "  said  the  Prince.  "  I  intended  that  the 
entire  transaction  should  represent  a  beautiful  case 
of  filial  and  paternal  affection.  I  presented  you  with 
the  china — that  was  filial.  You  paid  for  it — that 
was  paternal.  Could  anything  be  more  complete?  " 

We  slept  at  Linden wald.  The  next  morning  I 
breakfasted  with  the  ex-President  and  his  son.  Our 
wagon  was  at  the  gate.  Holding  my  hand  in  his, 
the  venerable  host  said  kindly :  "  Young  man,  you 
have  chosen  a  good  part.  Persevere  to  the  end, 
which  you  may  see,  but  I  shall  not.  The  recent  ag 
gressions  of  the  slave  power  may  destroy  the  old 
parties,  but  they  will  perpetuate  the  republic.  You 
have  enlisted  under  the  banner  of  Free  Soil.  Carry 
it  forward  to  victory.  The  contest  may  be  long.  I 
foresee  that  it  will  not  be  ended  by  the  present  cam 
paign.  Slavery  cannot  long  exist  under  restrictions. 
It  must  expand  or  perish.  The  great  Northwest,  by 
the  consent  of  the  South,  has  been  consecrated  to 
Freedom.  Her  rights  must  be  maintained  at  any 
cost.  To  your  generation  is  committed  the  high 
duty  of  maintaining  them  and  of  making  our  be 
loved  country,  permanently  and  truly,  'The  land  of 
the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave. ' ' 
2 


CHAPTER    III. 
THE  EARLY  BENCH  AND  BAR  OF  VERMONT. 

IT  is  one  of  the  prerogatives  of  age  to  believe  that 
the  world  is  progressing  backward.  Without  assert 
ing  this  privilege  I  will  set  down,  from  old  note 
books  and  from  memory,  some  incidents  of  the  early 
bench  and  bar  of  Vermont,  and  leave  my  readers  to 
make  their  application. 

My  early  professional  life  was  passed  before  such 
judges  as  SAMUEL  PRENTISS,  of  the  Circuit  Court  of 
the  United  States  for  the  District  of  Vermont,  a  court 
ocasionally  dignified  by  the  presence  on  the  bench 
of  SAMUEL  NELSON,  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the 
United  States.  Some  of  the  judges  who  then  served 
the  State  for  salaries  of  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dol 
lars  per  year  were  Stephen  Royce,  Charles  K.  Will 
iams,  Samuel  S.  Phelps,  Jacob  Collamer,  Milo  L. 
Bennett,  and  Isaac  F.  Redfield.  Later  came  the  two 
Pierponts,  Robert  and  John.  There  was  not  one  of 
these  who  would  not  have  honored  a  seat  on  the 
bench  of  the  highest  court  in  the  land.  And  they 
had  other  than  judicial  qualifications.  In  the  opinion 
of  Mr.  Webster,  Samuel  S.  Phelps  was  the  best 
lawyer  in  the  Senate,  of  the  United  States  of  his 
time.  "  Jack"  Pierpont,  as  we  affectionately  called 
him,  was  not  only  a  lawyer'  and  a  judge,  but  he  knew 
and  loved  every  game-bird  and  was  the  best  wing 
shot  in  a  close  cover  the  Sta,te  ever  produced.  I  can- 

18 


EARLY  BENCH  AND  BAR  OF  VERMONT.    19 

not  help  thinking  sometimes  that  this  old  race  of  law 
yers  no  longer  exists. 

Lawyers  of  the  present  day  will  put  on  a  look  of 
wise  incredulity  when  they  read  the  statement  which 
I  here  record.  When  I  left  the  State  and  its  bar  in 
1861 1  had  never  heard  so  much  as  a  whisper  against 
the  impartiality  or  integrity  of  a  Vermont  judge. 
At  that  time  we  should  have  looked  upon  a  lawyer 
as  an  unworthy  brother  if  he  had  not  implicit  con 
fidence  in  the  bench.  We  used  to  find  fault  with 
their  decisions ;  we  availed  ourselves  of  our  privileges 
as  defined  by  Judge  Grover,  of  the  New  York  Supreme 
Court.  We  could  and  did  appeal  from  the  deci 
sions,  or  go  down  to  the  hotel  and  complain  about 
the  court,  and  sometimes  we  did  both.  But  no  law 
yer  suspected  or  intimated  that  the  decisions  were 
influenced  by  fear,  favor,  or  affection,  or  that  they 
did  not  comprise  the  impartial  judgment  of  the 
court  upon  the  facts  and  law.  I  might  here  refer  to 
some  of  the  reflex  influences  of  such  judges  upon  the 
bar,  but  I  will  merely  say  that  they  made  the  first 
twenty  years  of  my  practice  a  time  to  look  back  upon 
as  the  most  delightful  of  a  long  professional  life. 

There  were  some  of  the  earlier  Vermont  judges  of 
whom  my  knowledge  was  legendary.  One  of  these 
was  Elias  Keyes,  a  singular  compound  of  law,  good 
sense,  and  sarcasm.  That  eminent  scholar  and 
statesman,  George  P.  Marsh,  gave  me  the  following 
account  of  one  of  Judge  Keyes'  sentences  which  he 
had  received  from  Hon.  Charles  Marsh,  his  father. 
A  disconsolate-looking  tramp  was  convicted  before 
Judge  Keyes  of  the  larceny  of  the  boots  of  United 
States  Senator  Dudley  Chase  from  before  the  door  of 
his  room  at  the  tavern  in  Windsor. 


2U  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

He  was  convicted  and  called  up  for  sentence. 

"  You  are  a  poor  creature,"  said  the  judge.  "  You 
ought  to  have  known  better  than  to  steal.  Only  rich 
men  can  take  things  without  paying  for  them.  And 
then  you  must  steal  in  the  great  town  of  Windsor, 
and  the  boots  of  a  great  man  like  Senator  Chase,  the 
greatest  man  anywhere  around.  If  you  wanted  to 
steal,  why  didn't  you  steal  in  some  little  town  in 
New  Hampshire,  and  the  boots  of  some  man  who 
wasn't  of  any  consequence?  And  then  you  must 
steal  from  him  when  he  was  on  his  way  to  Washing 
ton,  and,  perhaps,  the  only  boots  he  had.  You  might 
have  compelled  him  to  wait  until  some  shoemaker 
made  him  another  pair,  and  shoemakers  never  keep 
their  promises.  And  perhaps  by  the  delay  some 
important  treaty  might  have  failed  of  ratification 
because  he  was  not  present  in  the  Senate.  The 
country  might  have  been  involved  in  a  bloody  war 
with  Great  Britain  or  some  other  power  because  of 
your  stealing  these  boots.  Now,  you  reckless  crea 
ture,  you  see  what  awful  consequences  might  have 
followed  your  crime.  What  have  you  got  to  say 
why  you  should  not  be  sentenced  to  State  prison  for 
the  term  of  your  natural  life  for  stealing  Senator 
Chase's  boots?" 

"  I  have  got  to  say  that  you  seem  to  know  a  derned 
deal  more  about  stealin'  boots  nor  what  I  do !"  piped 
the  prisoner. 

"That  is  a  sound  observation,"  said  the  judge, 
"  and  I  will  only  give  you  one  month  in  the  county 
jail,  not  so  much  for  stealing  as  for  your  ignorance 
in  not  knowing  better  than  to  steal  the  boots  of  a 
great  man  like  Senator  Dudley  Chase." 

Another  original  and  strong  character  in  the  early 


EARLY  BENCH  AND  BAR  OF  VERMONT.    21 

judicial  history  of  Vermont  Was  Theophilus  Har 
rington.  He  was  elected  Chief  Justice  of  the  Rut 
land  County  Court  in  1800,  and  when  the  system  was 
changed  in  1803  he  was  elected  a  judge  of  the  Su 
preme  Court  and  held  that  position  until  his  death 
in  1813.  He  was  a  farmer,  who  never  studied  law 
until  1802,  when  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar  of  the 
court  of  which  he  was  Chief  Justice. 

It  was  Judge  Harrington  who  decided  against  the 
slave-owner  who  had  arrested  his  slave  in  Vermont, 
because  he  could  not  show  title  from  the  "  original 
proprietor."  The  grantees  named  in  the  New  Hamp 
shire  grants  were  called  original  proprietors,  and 
when  a  lot-owner  could  show  a  chain  of  title  which 
commenced  with  a  deed  from  the  proprietor  to  whom 
his  lot  was  assigned  in  the  division  of  the  town,  his 
title  could  only  be  defeated  by  an  adverse  possession 
or  a  subsequent  deed.  The  slave-master  supposed 
he  had  made  a  good  title  to  the  fugitive.  Judge 
Harrington  held  otherwise.  "But,"  pleaded  the 
owner, "  I  show  a  deed  from  the  owner  of  the  mother 
of  the  slave." 

"Your  title  may  be  good  in  Virginia,"  said  the 
judge.  "  It  is  worthless  here  unless  you  show  from 
the  original  proprietor. " 

"Who,  then,  is  the  original  proprietor?"  asked  the 
master,  "if  not  the  owner  as  whose  slave  he  was 
born?" 

"  The  Almighty,  sir !"  sternly  answered  the  judge. 
"  He  or  his  grantee  can  have  an  order  from  this  court 
to  return  a  man  to  slavery.  None  other  can !" 

I  take  the  following  notes  from  the  letter  written 
me  in  1860  by  Obadiah  Noble,  a  lawyer  of  Tinmouth, 
then  in  his  eighty-fourth  year :  "  Judge  Harrington 


22  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

would  express  more  in  fewer  words  than  any  man  I 
ever  heard  speak.  He  took  no  minutes  of  the  evi 
dence,  yet  he  would  repeat  all  that  was  material  in  a 
long  trial  with  perfect  accuracy.  After  a  clear  and 
perfectly  fair  charge  to  the  jury,  he  would  often  say : 
'If  justice  controls  your  verdict  you  will  not  miss 
the  general  principles  of  the  law.' 

"  I  remember  a  case  in  which  Daniel  Chipman  was 
counsel,  in  which  he  produced  a  deposition  of  a  wit 
ness  who,  he  said,  was  one  of  the  most  reputable  men 
in  Troy.  'I  am  sorry  for  Troy,  then,'  said  the 
judge,  'for  if  the  angel  Gabriel  had  signed  that 
deposition  I  would  not  believe  his  testimony. ' 

"  I  once  heard  him  explain  the  statute  of  limita 
tions  or  adverse  possession  in  this  way:  'When  the 
first  settlers  came  here  a  day's  work  would  buy  an 
acre  of  land,  and  men  were  not  particular  about  their 
line-fences.  They  often  varied  from  the  true  line  to 
get  a  more  convenient  place  for  the  fence.  But  when 
two  owners  made  a  crooked  fence  which  gave  one 
more  land  than  his  share  and  let  it  stand  for  fifteen 
years,  that  fence  could  not  be  straightened  without 
the  consent  of  both  owners. ' 

"  On  the  trial  of  an  action  of  ejectment  for  a  farm, 
the  defendant  offered  a  deed  of  the  premises  from  the 
plaintiff,  to  which  Daniel  Chipman  objected  because 
it  had  no  seal.  'But  your  client  sold  the  land,  was 
paid  for  it,  and  signed  the  deed,  did  he  not?'  asked 
the  judge.  'That  makes  no  difference,'  said  Chip 
man;  'the  deed  has  no  seal  and  cannot  be  admitted  in 
evidence.'  'Is  there  anything  else  the  matter  with 
the  deed?'  asked  the  judge.  Chipman  'did  not 
know  as  there  was.'  'Mr.  Clerk,'  said  the  judge, 
'give  me  a  wafer  and  a  three-cornered  piece  of 


EARLY    BENCH    AND    BAR   OF    VERMONT.         23 

paper. '  The  clerk  obeyed,  and  the  judge  deliberately 
made  and  affixed  the  seal.  'There!  Brother  Chip- 
man,'  said  the  judge.  'The  deed  is  all  right  now. 
It  may  be  put  in  evidence.  A  man  is  not  going  to 
be  cheated  out  of  his  farm  in  this  court  because  his 
deed  lacks  a  wafer,  when  there  is  a  whole  box  of 
wafers  on  the  clerk's  desk!'  'The  court  will  give 
me  an  exception?'  asked  the  counsel.  'The  court  will 
do  no  such  thing, '  said  the  judge,  and  he  did  not. 

"  On  another  trial  where  counsel  was  examining  a 
witness,  Judge  Harrington  looked  at  him  very  in 
tently  and  broke  in  with  the  question,  'Did  you  not 
once  live  in  Rhode  Island?'  The  witness  answered 
that  he  did.  'Leave  the  stand,  sir!'  thundered  the 
judge.  Then  turning  to  the  lawyer  he  demanded 
what  excuse  he  had  for  offering  such  a  witness. 
The  counsel  claimed  that  he  was  an  important  wit 
ness,  and  that  his  client  was  entitled  to  his  evidence. 
'No,  sir,'  said  the  judge,  'that  fellow  don't  open  his 
mouth  in  this  court.  He  is  a  knave,  a  scoundrel, 
who  was  convicted  in  Rhode  Island  for  horse-steal 
ing.  '  The  counsel  insisted  that  his  conviction  should 
be  shown  by  the  record.  'I  tell  you  that  I  know  the 
fact  myself.  I  should  not  know  it  better  with  a 
dozen  records.  Go  on  with  the  case !' ' 

With  all  his  peculiarities,  the  good  sense  and  rug 
ged  integrity  of  Judge  Harrington  made  him  very 
acceptable  to  the  bar  as  well  as  to  the  people.  One 
other  anecdote  of  his  career  must  suffice : 

He  was  vehemently  opposed  to  the  importation  of 
Spanish  merino  sheep.  On  one  occasion  when  he 
was  at  the  State  capital,  a  farmer  who  had  at  great 
expense  imported  a  small  flock  of  these  sheep,  and 
had  them  on  exhibition  there,  had  a  long  argument 


24  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

with  Judge  Harrington,  in  which  he  claimed  that  it 
was  a  benefit  to  the  farmer  to  improve  the  grade  of 
wool.  He  succeeded  in  inducing  the  judge  to  see  the 
sheep,  believing  that  his  prejudices  could  thereby  be 
overcome.  The  judge  looked  at  the  sheep,  felt  the 
fineness  of  their  wool,  and  said  nothing.  "  Do  you 
not  see, "  said  the  importer,  "  that  this  wool  is  worth 
a  third  more  per  pound  than  that  of  the  coarse-wooled 
Canada  sheep?"  "That  may  be,"  said  the  judge, 
"but  if  improvement  of  wool  is  your  object,  why 
don't  you  go  into  the  business  of  cultivating  the 
negro?  You  could  raise  just  as  good  wool  and  save 
the  cost  of  dyeing !" 

My  note-books  contain  a  large  quantity  of  material 
which  has  given  me  a  high  esteem  for  these  early 
settlers  of  my  native  State.  Judge  Harrington  was 
by  no  means  a  solitary  example  of  a  judge  of  the 
highest  court  who  had  no  legal  education,  but  who 
discharged  judicial  duties  to  the  entire  satisfaction 
of  his  fellow-citizens.  They  were  strong  men,  those 
early  settlers,  almost  without  exception,  men  whose 
education  was  limited  to  reading,  writing,  and  the 
four  simple  rules  of  arithmetic.  The  sharp  struggle 
of  their  fathers  for  existence  in  a  new  country,  the 
necessity  of  utilizing  the  labor  of  their  sons,  made 
this  restricted  education,  acquired  by  a  few  weeks' 
attendance  at  the  log  school-house,  a  necessity.  Yet 
there  were  men  among  them  who  could  frame  a  good 
constitution,  but  who  could  not  write  a  grammatical 
sentence.  There  were  civil  engineers,  military  ex 
perts,  diplomatists,  and  statesmen  in  the  old  Commit 
tee  of  Safety.  Muny  farmers  administered  the  law 
from  the  bench.  Their  strong  common  sense,  inflexi 
ble  integrity,  and  devotion  to  the  principles  of  liberty 


EARLY  BENCH  AND  BAR  OF  VERMONT.    25 

perhaps  qualified  them  for  the  judicial  office  better  at 
the  time  than  three  years'  service  in  an  attorney's 
office  or  lectures  at  the  law-schools.  The  precedents 
they  established  have  seldom  been  departed  from  by 
their  successors,  some  of  whom  have  all  the  advan 
tages  that  study  and  education  could  give  to  great 
natural  abilities  trained  by  long  and  intelligent  expe 
rience. 


CHAPTER    IV. 
A  LESSON  IN  BANKING. 

THE  ownership  of  a  few  shares  of  stock  and  my 
neutrality  in  a  controversy  among  the  stockholders 
made  me  the  president  of  a  bank  at  a  very  early  age. 
I  was  fortunate  enough  to  retain  the  office  until  I 
entered  the  Treasury  in  the  spring  of  1861.  Our 
bank  redeemed  its  notes  at  the  Suffolk  Bank  in  Bos 
ton,  and  I  became  rather  intimately  acquainted  with 
Mr.  J.  Amory  Davis,  the  president  of  that  venerable 
conservative  institution. 

In  the  "  fifties"  the  profits  of  a  country  bank  were 
made  upon  the  sale  of  drafts  upon  the  cities  for  a 
premium,  or  from  the  interest  upon  securities  on 
which  they  issued  their  own  bank-notes — in  other 
words  upon  their  circulation.  For  every  outstanding 
bank-note  the  bank  was  supposed  to  hold  some  inter 
est-earning  security.  This  was  in  substance  the 
same  as  the  interest  upon  the  circulation.  Our  bank 
with  a  capital  of  $150,000  was  permitted  by  law  to 
carry  three  dollars  for  one,  or  a  limit  of  $450,000. 
But  in  order  to  maintain  the  credit  of  our  bank,  it 
was  necessary  to  redeem  our  notes  in  coin  in  Boston 
as  well  as  at  the  counter  of  the  bank.  »  In  old  times, 
before  the  Suffolk  system,  it  was  easy  to  carry  a  cir 
culation.  Now,  with  the  expresses,  railroads,  and 
improved  means  of  transportation,  our  notes  went  to 
Boston  as  if  drawn  by  a  magnet.  We  were  fortunate 

26 


A    LESSON    IN    BANKING.  27 

if  our  circulation  averaged  thirty  days — that  is,  every 
bank-note  paid  out  was  redeemed  in  Boston  once  in 
about  thirty  days.  If  our  whole  circulation  was,  say, 
$4.00,000,  we  must  place  in  the  Suffolk  Bank  as  much 
as  $400,000  every  thirty  days. 

Either  because  he  commiserated  my  young  inex 
perience  or  because  he  took  a  fancy  to  me,  Mr.  Davis 
gave  me  a  large  amount  of  useful  advice  and  instruc 
tion  in  bank  management.  One  day  when  we  were 
alone  in  his  room  he  said  to  me : 

"  Would  you  like  to  know  one  way  of  distinguish 
ing  a  rascal  from  an  honest  man  whe^i  both  are 
strangers?" 

"  I  certainly  would,"  I  replied. 

"  I  do  not  promise  to  give  you  any  infallible  rule, " 
he  continued.  "  The  mind  often  acts  upon  impulse 
and  without  any  apparent  cause.  If  what  I  am 
about  to  tell  you  shall  save  your  bank  from  even  one 
loss,  it  will  be  worth  remembering.  You  should  ob 
serve  any  stranger  and  form  an  impression  about  him 
as  soon  as  he  enters  your  bank  or  your  room.  It 
will  be  well  to  sit  in  your  chair,  facing  the  entrance. 
If  a  man  enters  with  his  head  erect,  looking  straight 
before  him,  and  walks  to  the  desk  or  window  and 
states  his  business  without  hesitation  or  circumlocu 
tion,  he  will  usually  turn  out  to  be  an  honest  man. 
But  if  he  halts  upon  the  threshold  and  looks  to  the 
right  and  to  the  left,  scanning  every  person  present 
as  if  he  feared  recognition — if  he  sidles  up  to  the 
window  edgewise,  he  is  a  man  to  be  watched.  If 
he  is  asked  to  be  seated  and  turns  to  look  at  the 
chair  as  if  he  was  afraid  he  might  sit  on  something, 
it  is  almost  certain  that  he  is  a  bad  man.  You 
will  notice  other  acts  which  I  cannot  describe  from 


28  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

which  you  will  draw  inferences.  One  rule  I  would 
strongly  recommend.  If  your  first  impression  is 
against  a  stranger,  do  not  change  it  except  upon 
very  strong  evidence ;  it  is  better  as  a  rule  to  have 
nothing  to  do  with  him.  There  may  not  seem  to  be 
much  value  in  what  I  am  telling  you,  but  I  think  its 
value  will  grow  upon  you." 

I  thanked  Mr.  Davis  for  his  advice  and  remarked 
that  his  experience  must  be  valuable  to  me.  He  was 
certainly  right  in  one  respect.  It  has  grown  upon 
me.  The  moment  I  see  a  stranger  I  cannot  refrain 
from  forming  an  opinion  about  his  character. 

Years  afterward,  one  day  when  I  was  writing  at 
my  table  in  the  directors'  room,  the  card  of  a  gentle 
man  who  wished  to  see  me  was  handed  me.  As  I 
said  "Show  him  in,"  I  raised  my  head  and  saw 
standing  upon  the  threshold  a  man  of  clerical,  even 
venerable  aspect,  apparently  about  sixty  years  old. 
He  was  well  dressed,  with  well-blacked  boots,  dark 
gloves,  a  new  silk  hat  and  white  cravat.  His  hair 
was  oiled  and  plastered  to  his  head.  The  moment  I 
saw  him  the  whole  lesson  of  the  Suffolk  president 
flashed  across  my  memory.  "  I  will  have  nothing  to 
do  with  you,"  I  thought,  though  I  could  scarcely  tell 
why,  for  except  a  sweeping  glance  which  embraced 
every  one  in  the  room  there  was  nothing  suspicious 
in  his  appearance. 

He  came  forward  and  presented  two  letters  of  in 
troduction,  one  from  my  friend,  the  president  of  the 
Suffolk  Bank,  the  other  from  Blake  Brothers,  our 
uncurrent  money  brokers  in  Boston.  They  were  in 
similar  terms.  They  knew  the  gentleman  personally 
and  well;  he  was  a  member  of  the  old  firm  of  lum 
bermen  in  Thomaston,  Me.,  F &  Co.,  with 


A    LESSON    IN    BANKING.  29 

whom  the  writers  had  long  done  business.  F & 

Co.  had  recently  sold  out  their  lumber  interests  in 
Maine  for  $260,000.  They  had  purchased  a  quarry 
about  fifty  miles  from  Chicago,  where  they  employed 
four  hundred  men  in  quarrying  and  dressing  stone. 
We  might  find  it  profitable  to  do  business  with  them. 
There  was  no  doubt  about  their  wealth,  we  could 
rely  implicitly  upon  their  statements,  and  the  writers 
"were  very  respectfully,  etc.,  etc." 

As  I  finished  reading  the  second  letter,  the  person 
asked  if  he  could  leave  a  package  in  our  vault  for  a 
few  hours.  I  said  yes — 'Called  the  teller,  to  whom  he 
handed  a  package,  in  shape  like  bank-notes,  marked 
$10,000  in  the  well-known  writing  of  the  cashier  of 
a  bank  about  thirty  miles  away.  This  disposed  of, 
my  gentleman  opened  his  business. 

"  He  had  come  to  us,"  he  said,  "because  our  notes 
were  well  known  and  in  general  circulation  in  the 
town  where  their  quarry  was  situated."  This  was 
true,  for  we  discounted  $5,000  per  month  for  a  cus 
tomer  in  business  there.  They  had  been  paying 
their  laborers  in  Maine  currency,  but  they  lost  time 
in  going  to  Chicago  to  exchange  it ;  sometimes  got 
drunk  and  lost  the  money.  Our  notes  they  would 
keep  by  them  until  paid  out  for  living  expenses.  It 
would  be  better  for  the  men — much  better  for  their 
employers  (this  was  rather  far-fetched,  but  it  would 
pass  at  a  pinch).  He  wanted  to  arrange  with  us 
ultimately  for  $10,000  per  month  if  we  liked  the 
business  and  the  length  of  the  circulation  was  satis 
factory.  This  they  would  make  at  least  sixty  days. 
For  this  money  they  would  give  us  drafts  on  Boston 
on  thirty  days'  time.  To  start  the  business  they  would 
give  us  sight  drafts  on  Boston  for  the  first  $10,000. 


30  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

We  corresponded  daily  with  the  Suffolk  Bank  and 
with  Blake  Brothers.  I  knew  their  paper,  its  en 
graved  headings  and  handwriting  as  well  as  our  own. 
I  had  not  the  slightest  doubt  about  the  genuineness 
of  the  letters,  or  that  the  person  was  just  what  he 
claimed  to  be.  A  more  attractive  proposition  to  a 
country  bank  could  not  be  made.  He  had  covered 
every  point.  The  thirty-day  drafts  would  mature 
before  the  notes  could  come  in  for  redemption  and 
so  the  drafts  would  redeem  them.  In  fact,  the  offer 
was  too  attractive.  It  was  all  profit  for  the  bank. 
It  was  too  good. 

And  yet  when  he  laid  down  his  engraved  sight 
drafts  on  Boston  accepted  by  the  "  old,  wealthy  Maine 
lumbermen,"  said  he  supposed  I  would  like  to  think 
the  matter  over  and  he  would  call  in  an  ho*ur  or  two 
for  our  decision,  I  told  him  he  need  not  take  that 
trouble,  for  we  declined  his  offer.  At  first  he  seemed 
dazed,  he  "couldn't  understand  it.  The  Suffolk 
Bank  recommended  him  to  come  to  us;  said  we 
woud  like  the  business.  Why  did  we  decline?  Did 
we  doubt  his  word?"  I  answered  that  the  Suffolk 
Bank  did  not  guarantee  our  discounts ;  we  were  un 
der  no  obligation  to  give  our  reasons. 

He  persisted  that  it  was  important  that  he  should 
know  our  reasons  and  have  an  opportunity  of  an 
swering  them,  and  I  yielded  so  far  as  to  give  him 
two  reasons.  "  Your  proposition  is  too  good,"  I  said. 
"  On  such  paper  you  could  have  got  all  the  currency 
you  wanted  without  coming  to  Vermont.  The  Suf 
folk  Bank  would  have  given  it  to  you.  My  second 
reason  is  that  we  do  not  care  to  do  business  with 
strangers. " 

He  now  began  to  be  persistent  and  somewhat  im- 


A   LESSON   IN   BANKING.  31 

pudent.  Would  I  not  submit  his  proposals  to  our 
board?  I  said:  "No.  The  decision  is  final  and  will 
not  be  reconsidered."  He  then  in  an  injured  tone 
demanded  his  package.  It  was  handed  to  him.  He 
declared  that  he  considered  that  he  had  been  insulted, 
and  stalked  out  of  the  bank  into  the  street. 

Where  did  he  go?  What  became  of  him?  He 
was  never  seen  or  heard  of  afterward.  If  he  had 
been  annihilated  his  disappearance  could  not  have 
been  more  perfect.  The  pursuit  began  next  day. 
It  was  intelligent  and  thorough.  It  was  continued 
through  many  months  at  a  cost  of  more  than  thirty 
thousand  dollars.  It  was  utterly  fruitless. 

"  You  have  been  defrauded.  The  pretended  letters 
are  forgeries.  No  such  persons  known  to  us."  Such 
was  the  unwelcome  message  sent  to  six  banks  as 
soon  as  their  letters,  written  on  the  day  of  his  disap 
pearance,  were  opened  by  the  Suffolk  Bank  and 
Blake  Brothers. 

The  officers  of  the  defrauded  banks  were  so  mortified 
by  the  success  of  the  fraud  that  it  was  a  long  time 
before  the  details  transpired.  It  then  appeared  that 
the  scheme  had  been  most  carefully  matured.  The 
paper  was  identical  with  the  letter-paper  of  the  Suf 
folk  Bank  and  of  Blake  Brothers  &  Co.  It  was  made 
by  the  same  mill.  The  engraved  headings  and  the 
writing  had  been  most  skilfully  imitated.  The  places 
where  the  notes  of  each  bank  circulated  at  the  West 
were  ascertained  and  a  story  devised  suited  to  each 
bank.  There  were  four  conspirators,  each  of  which 
dealt  with  two  banks.  My  visitor  had  succeeded 
with  one  before  he  called  on  me.  Five  of  the  others 
succeeded,  one  only  failed.  The  fruits  of  the  fraud 
gathered  in  a  single  day  were  sixty  thousand  dollars. 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 

Months  elapsed  before  the  notes  began  to  come  in  for 
redemption.  They  came  from  Quebec,  Toronto,  St. 
Louis,  New  Orleans,  in  so  small  amounts  and  so 
scattered  as  to  give  no  clew  to  the  fraud. 

It  would  be  idle  for  me  to  claim  that  our  bank  es 
caped  through  any  superior  sagacity  of  my  own. 
When  the  fraud  was  exposed  I  attempted  to  analyze 
my  sensations  to  ascertain  why  I  did  not  give  him 
$10,000  in  our  notes  fora  sight  draft  on  Boston  which 
both  our  correspondents  said  was  good.  I  decided 
that  the  suspicion  that  the  transaction  was  too  prof 
itable  would  have  been  destroyed  by  the  story  which 
fell  so  naturally  from  the  rascal's  oily  tongue,  and 
that  the  lesson  of  the  venerable  city  president  in  this 
instance  saved  our  bank  from  the  loss  of  ten  thousand 
dollars. 


CHAPTER    V. 

THE  THIRD  HOUSE  JOURNAL — How  WE  RE 
FORMED  LEGISLATION  IN  1850. 

THE  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  touches  its 
close.  Legislation  is  in  full  blast.  There  are  few 
general  laws;  railroads,  banks,  bridges,  turnpikes, 
cemeteries,  almost  every  corporation  is  created  by  a 
special  charter.  Much  of  the  legislation  is  absurd, 
more  of  it  dangerous.  Existing  corporations  found 
it  necessary  to  be  represented  by  counsel  at  the  State 
capital  during  the  whole  session.  There  were  thus 
brought  together  many  lawyers  who  had  little  to  do 
but  to  watch  the  daily  journal  and  the  interests  of 
their  corporation  clients. 

We  had  come  to  be  known  as  the  "  Third  House. " 
We  met  daily  in  the  State  Library  and  lampooned 
everybody  who  deserved  our  attention,  especially  the 
members  of  the  two  lower  houses.  More  effective 
work  for  our  clients  was  accomplished  by  the  satir 
ical  items  which  we  made  for  the  newspapers  than  by 
our  legitimate  work  before  the  committees. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  session  of  1850,  it  was 
suggested  that  we  ought  to  have  a  permanent  organ 
ization,  elect  a  speaker,  and  appoint  our  standing 
committees.  The  suggestion  met  with  favor  and 
was  adopted.  The  proceedings  of  the  first  day's  ses 
sion  were  published  in  the  first  number  of  the  Third 
House  Journal.  This  proved  to  be  a  success,  and 
3  33 


34  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

demand  for  it  was  so  great  that  Gen.  E.  P.  Walton 
assumed  the  expense  of  future  numbers. 

Like  all  printed  papers  which  have  only  a  transi 
tory  interest,  these  copies  amused  for  the  moment, 
went  into  the  waste-basket  and  were  forgotten. 
Twenty  years  later  I  found  a  single  number  in  a 
long-disused  portfolio,  and  its  perusal  induced  me 
to  attempt  to  collect  all  the  numbers.  The  most  dili 
gent  search  failed  to  disclose  another  number.  It 
was  not  until  1874  that  Henry  Stevens,  of  London, 
submitted  to  me  on  approval  a  package  of  Vermont 
material  in  which  were  all  the  numbers  of  the  Third 
House  Journal  for  1850  and  1851.  I  fastened  upon 
them,  had  them  bound,  and  they  are  now  before  me. 
They  are  valuable  because  they  are  unique.  There 
is  not  another  copy  in  existence.  They  are  very 
precious  to  me  for  another  reason.  I  have  just  been 
reading  aloud  from  them,  and  my  eyes  grow  moist 
when  I  reflect  that  of  that  circle  of  genial  fellows, 
almost  a  score  in  number,  only  three  survive  to  testify 
to  a  friendship  which  has  subsisted  unbroken  for 
more  than  forty  years. 

Forty  years  ago  corporations  were  created  by 
special  acts  of  the  legislature.  Anybody  could  peti 
tion  for  one,  and,  if  not  opposed,  the  act  usually 
passed.  New  corporations  thus  authorized  were 
often  ruinous  to  those  already  established.  In  such 
cases  the  old  corporation  found  it  necessary  to  be  rep 
resented  by  counsel  during  the  whole  session.  The 
contests  before  the  committees  were  sometimes  very 
angry.  As  the  committees  did  not  sit  during  the 
session  of  the  House  and  Senate,  that  time  was  usu 
ally  employed  by  the  lawyers  in  the  preparation  of 
their  cases.  The  most  effective  way  to  defeat  an 


THIRD  HOUSE   JOURNAL.  35 

application  was  to  turn  it  into  ridicule.  The  pro 
ceedings  of  the  Third  House,  now  to  be  described, 
therefore  had  a  definite  purpose — that  of  defeating 
improper  and  unnecessary  grants  of  charters  for  cor 
porations.  That  purpose  was  successfully  executed. 

So  many  of  the  members  of  the  "  Third  House" 
became  distinguished  in  legislative,  judicial,  and 
diplomatic  life  that  I  am  not  inclined  to  give  their 
names.  It  is  shown  by  the  record  that  on  Monday, 
the  4th  of  November,  1850,  the  House  was  called  to 
order  by  its  youngest  member  and  proceeded  to  the 
choice  of  a  speaker.  Three  candidates  were  nomi 
nated,  each  of  whom  certified  that  he  was  neither  a 
railroad  attorney,  a  director  in  a  turnpike  company, 
nor  a  stockholder  in  a  bank.  After  several  ballots, 
one  of  them  was  elected  and  proceeded  to  deliver  his 
salutatory  in  the  approved  form.  Of  himself,  he  said, 
he  could  do  nothing,  but  being  a  son  of  Patience  as  well 
as  a  son  of  Temperance,  with  the  assistance  of  the 
members  he  expected  to  rise  superior  to  great  emergen 
cies.  He  should  himself  perform  all  the  functions 
of  the  Third  House  unless  prevented  by  impertinent 
interference.  That  everything  might  be  done  de 
cently  and  in  order,  he  would  proceed  to  appoint  the 
standing  committees  for  the  session.  Among  them 
were : 

A  Committee  on  Useless  Information,  with  power 
to  collect  and  preserve  "things  lost  upon  earth." 

A  Committee  to  devise  additional  taxes  upon 
banks,  colleges,  female  seminaries,  Methodist  chapels, 
two- story  school-houses,  lunatic  asylums,  and  such 
like  aristocratic  institutions. 

A  Committee  on  Log-Rolling,  with  power  to  report 
upon  the  expediency  and  propriety  of  banking  with- 


36  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

out  specie,  trading  without  capital,  and  lobbying 
without  pay. 

A  Committee  on  Aggravation,  with  power  to  keep 
our  "  Southern  brethren"  in  a  stew  on  the  subject  of 
slavery,  by  resolution  or  otherwise. 

A  Committee  on  Hocus- Pocus  and  Artful  Dodg- 
mg, '/Twisting,  Turning,  Wire- Working,  and  Ground 
and  Lofty  Tumbling  in  connection  with  railroads  and 
bridges. 

A  Committee  on  Amiability  of  Temper,  Sweet 
ness  of  Disposition,  Purity  of  Expression,  Uniform 
Propriety  and  Decorum  in  social  intercourse. 

Without  an  acquaintance  with  the  persons  ap 
pointed  on  these  committees  no  one  could  appreciate 
their  humor.  As  each  committee  was  announced, 
the  crowded  room  was  filled  with  a  roar  of  applause, 
which  reached  a  climax  when  the  last  one  was  filled 
by  three  of  the  most  nervous,  irritable,  and  uncom 
fortable  individuals  that  I  have  ever  known  in  Ver 
mont  Or  elsewhere. 

Banks  were  then  created  by  special  charter.  There 
were  too  many  banks  already,  but  every  village  and 
hamlet  became  possessed  with  the  idea  that  a  bank 
was  necessary  to  develop  its  resources.  Every  im 
provement  or  evidence  of  growth  was  described  and 
presented  with  the  petition  for  a  bank  to  the  legisla 
ture.  The  result  was  that  some  banks  were  char 
tered  that  could  never  be  organized,  and  others  were 
authorized  for  which  there  was  no  apology. 

Another  evil  which  claimed  the  attention  of  the 
Third  House  was  the  growing  custom  of  the  legis 
lature  to  visit,  in  a  body,  any  section  of  the  State  sup 
posed  to  be  affected  by  new  legislation.  Railroads 
were  in  process  of  construction,  and  the  country  mem- 


THIRD   HOUSE   JOURNAL.  37 

bers  were  always  willing  to  accept  a  free  ride  upon  the 
railroad.  Banks,  railroads,  and  other '  corporations 
occupied  three-fourths  of  the  time  of  the  legislature. 
On  the  first  day  of  the  session  of  the  Third  House, 
a  petition  was  presented  for  the  incorporation  of  the 
"  Moosalamoo  Bank"  in  the  mountain  hamlet  of  Rip- 
ton.  The  petition  declared : 

"That  the  public  interests  of  the  town  of  Ripton  emphati 
cally  demand  an  immediate  charter  of  a  bank  at  that  place, 
to  be  open  during  the  summer  months,  to  meet  the  growing 
\vants  of  a  young,  an  elastic,  and  a  thriving  community.  A 
turnpike  already  penetrates  the  heart  of  the  village,  two  saw 
mills  are  in  the  full  tide  of  successful  experiment  within  its 
limits,  a  shingle  factory  has  shot  up  in  its  midst,  and  ere  the 
gorgeous  colors  of  another  autumn  shall  have  cast  their  glories 
upon  the  mountains,  a  blacksmith  shop  will  occupy  the  spot 
lately  sacred  to  the  wilderness  and  the  savage.  No  doubt  can 
be  entertained  by  any  reasonable  man  that  a  vast  capital 
could  be  permanently  loaned  to  the  people  of  Ripton,  and  that 
the  resources  of  the  country — the  spruce,  the  hemlock,  the 
charcoal,  the  partridge,  and  the  trout — can  never  be  success 
fully  developed  without  the  aid  of  a  banking  institution. 

"Your  petitioners  therefore  pray  your  honorable  body  to 
appoint  some  day  for  an  excursion,  to  visit  the  proposed  loca 
tion,  at  the  expense  of  the  State  ;  and  that  thereafterward  a 
bank  may  be  incorporated,  with  a  capital  of  five  hundred 
dollars,  divided  into  five  hundred  shares  of  one  dollar  each — 
the  bank  to  be  open  three  months  in  each  year,  with  power  to 
deal  in  fish-hooks,  powder  and  shot,  Monongahela  whiskey, 
and  to  do  a  general  exchange  business  in  the  various  descrip 
tions  of  charcoal  and  spruce-gum. " 

The  Moosalamoo  Bank  promoters  met  with  the 
usual  experience  of  the  public-spirited  patriots  who 
go  to  the  legislature  after  a  good  thing.  Only  two 
days  after  their  petition  was  presented,  certain  resi 
dents  of  the  kingdom  of  Tupton,  on  the  shores  of  Lake 


38  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

Dunmore,  presented  a  remonstrance  which  threatened 
the  defeat  of  the  enterprise.  They 

..."  looked  upon  the  effort  to  obtain  a  charter  for  a  bank  at 
Ripton  as  an  unwarrantable  attack  upon  vested  rights  of  your 
remonstrants,  who  reside  on  the  borders  of  Lake  Moosalamoo, 
vulgarly  called  Lake  Dunmore.  To  grant  the  prayer  of  the 
petition  would  be  to  steal  our  name.  Besides,  the  wants  and 
the  necessities  which  require  a  bank  are  tenfold  greater  at 
Moosalamoo  City,  in  the  kingdom  of  Tupton,  than  at  Ripton. 
We  have  a  most  extensive  glass  factory  establishment  there, 
consisting  of  buildings  which  cost  $10,000,  which  ought  to  be 
employed  to  some  good  purpose  instead  of  being  a  tax  upon 
the  owners.  As  many  as  forty  banks  could  be  kept  in  those 
buildings.  There  is  a  blacksmith  shop  already  erected,  a  good 
building  for  a  store,  an  extensive  tavern  establishment,  a 
good  haunt  for  muskrat,  and  quite  a  plenty  of  cards  and  other 
small  game.  The  flourishing  village  of  Sodom  is  about  one 
mile  distant,  where  are  carried  on  all  sorts  of  business,  un 
profitable  solely  for  want  of  bank  accommodations.  Not  far 
away  is  Satan's  Kingdom,  where  four  coal-pits  are  burning 
and  may  go  out  for  want  of  bank  accommodations.  It  is  only 
four  miles  to  Jerusalem,  a  new  and  thriving  village,  and  if  it 
should  be  decided  to  rebuild  the  Temple  there,  banking  facili 
ties  of  one  million  dollars  will  be  required  before  it  is  com 
pleted. 

"There  are  at  present  no  banks  nearer  than  the  decaying 
villages  of  Middlebury  and  Brandon.  Finally,  there  is  no  way 
of  getting  to  Ripton  except  over  the  turnpike,  which  has  been 
so  completely  swept  away  by  a  freshet  that  its  remains  could 
not  be  found  with  a  search-warrant.  The  trout  and  spruce- 
gum  interest  is  as  extensive  here  as  at  Ripton  and  the  Monon- 
gahela  fluid  better  and  more  abundant ;  we  want  the  bank 
more  than  they  do  at  Ripton. " 

This  remonstrance  was  followed  by  others,  new 
petitions  were  presented,  and  a  debate  resulted  which 
was  as  acrimonious  as  the  rules  of  the  Third  House 
permitted.  It  was  continued  to  the  end  of  the  session, 
when  it  was  found  that  there  was  no  member  who 


THE    MOOSALAMOO    BANK.  39 

could  make  up  his  mind  which  way  to  vote.  It  was 
finally  decided  to  postpone  the  subject  to  the  next 
session,  two  of  the  members  intimating  that  they  had 
learned  that  there  was  some  good  woodcock  ground 
in  that  vicinity,  and  that  they  proposed  to  visit  it, 
taking  that  opportunity  to  test  the  Monongahela, 
during  the  vacation. 

After  an  exhaustive  research  these  members  de 
cided  in  favor  of  Ripton.  Under  their  direction  a 
new  charter  was  prepared  and  presented  at  the  open 
ing  of  the  session  of  1851.  It  would  have  .passed 
unanimously  had  not  the  ridicule  proved  too  sharp 
for  the  two  lower  houses.  Not  only  were  all  pend 
ing  applications  rejected,  but  no  bank  has  since  been 
chartered  by  the  legislature  of  the  Green  Mountain 
State.  This  was  the  charter : 

MAGNA  CHARTA  OF  THE  MOOSALAMOO  BANK. 

"  Whereas,  The  Third  House  at  their  last  session,  in  tender 
and  sagacious  consideration  of  the  growing  wants  of  the 
Kedentry  and  of  the  utter  incapacity  of  the  two  lower  Houses 
of  the  legislature  of  this  State  on  all  subjects  in  general  and 
on  most  subjects  in  particular,  did  by  implication* and 'with 
force  and  arms  '  direct  at  Montpelier  aforesaid  the  two  of  its 
members  most  noted  for  wisdom  and  virtue  to  set  out,  locate, 
and  propound  for  the  benefit  of  the  people  and  the  assistance 
of  the  financial  operations  of  the  Third  House,  a  certain 
Grand,  Mutual,  Disinterested,  Reserved- Guaranty -Capital- 
Liability  Institution,  to  be  known  by  the  name  of  the  Moosa- 
lamoo  Bank,  and  described  and  bounded  as  follows,  to  wit : 
Commencing  at  a  hole  in  the  ground  a  little  way  north  of  a 
white  oak  staddle  on  the  principal  trout-stream  in  the  town 
of  Ripton,  four  miles  above  the  uppermost  human  habitation 
in  said  town  ;  running  thence  southerly,  from  the  summit  of 
the  highest  range  of  the  Green  Mountains,  to  a  stake  and  stones 
standing  at  the  foot  of  Rattlesnake  Point ;  thence  in  a  right 
line  across  Lake  Dunmore  to  the  northeast  corner  of  a  shad- 


40  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

bush  standing  near  the  Devil's  Den  in  Lower  Sodom  ;  thence 
in  a  circumambient  direction,  in  a  slope  movement,  down 
upon,  to  and  including  the  bar  of  Fray's  Tavern  in  Moosalamoo 
City ;  and  thence  by  the  most  convenient  route  to  the  north 
line  of  Ripton  Flats,  near  the  bar  of  Fred  Smith's  Tavern,  and 
the  Baconian  Mineral  Spring  which  irrigates  the  pasture  lands 
of  the  Honorable  George  Chipman  ;  thence  easterly  in  the  said 
last-mentioned  line  to  the  place  of  beginning  :  containing  all 
that  part  of  creation,  more  or  less,  together  with  all  the  waters, 
vegetation,  spruce-gum,  fish,  including  eels  and  bull-pouts, 
animals,  human  and  otherwise,  and  other  appurtenances 
thereto  belonging — the  said  bank  being  established  upon  the 
rotary  principle  ;  the  headquarters  being  at  Moosalamoo  City, 
with  power  to  adjourn  to  any  part  of  the  aforesaid  territory 
as  occasion  may  require. 

OFFICERS. 

"  The  officers  of  this  eleemosynary  corporation  shall  be,  first : 
A  governor,  who  shall  be  at  least  twenty-five  years  old,  more 
or  less,  of  as  good  moral  character  as  the  times  will  admit ;  a 
member  in  good  standing  of  the  only  true  political  party  and 
church  ;  a  good  judge  of  fun,  with  at  least  four  senses,  viz.  : 
An  eye  for  a  horse — an  ear  for  music — a  nose  for  gunpowder 
— and  a  taste  for  good  liquor  ;  a  married  man,  owning  at  least 
one  dog  ;  attached  to  the  principles  of  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States  and  the  Resolutions  of  '98.  To  guard  against 
imposition",  any  candidate  for  the  above  office  shall,  before 
the  election,  justify  as  to  qualification  before  the  commis 
sioners  in  the  same  manner  as  is  provided  for  bail  on  mesne 
process. 

"  Second  :  There  shall  be  at  least  fourteen  deputy-governors, 
who  shall  be  native  Americans,  addicted  to  such  virtues  as  a 
majority  of  the  commissioners  shall  approve.  It  shall  be  the 
duty  of  the  senior  deputy -governor  to  preside  over  the  deliber 
ations  of  the  board,  provided  he  can  justify^  at  such  times 
only  as  the  exigencies  of  business  may  require,  when  the 
governor,  in  the  opinion  of  two-thirds  of  the  stockholders 
present,  shall  become  so  far  '  beguiled, '  '  disguised, '  'fatigued, ' 
or  'discouraged'  as  to  be  inadequate  to  the  discharge  of  his 
official  functions. 

"  Third  :  There  shall  be  as  many  directors  as  may  be  thought 


THE    MOOSALAMOO    BANK.  41 

best.  Each  director  shall  have  been  a  Plattsburgh  Volunteer, 
or  a  member  in  fair  standing  of  some  flood-wood  company, 
or  a  side  judge  of  some  county  court,  or  a  hop -inspector,  or  a 
secretary  of  some  moral  performance,  or  the  proprietor  of 
some  patent  right.  He  shall  believe  in  a  good  time  coming  ; 
the  Bloomer  costume  ;  the  Fourth  of  July  ;  the  infallibility  of 
the  Third  House,  and  the  '  Manifest  Destiny. '  He  shall  be  a 
consistent  advocate  of  Freedom  of  Speech,  Eambouillet  Sheep. 
Political  Temperance,  Woman's  Rights,  Bank  Reform,  Black 
Hawk  and  Gifford  Morgan  Horses,  Morus  Multicaulis,  and  the 
Universal  Brotherhood  of  Man. 

"  Fourth  :  There  shall  be  a  cashier,  who  shall  consist  of  at 
least  one  man  of  an  amiable  disposition  and  genial  tempera 
ment,  with  a  pocketful  of  rocks  and  a  hatful  of  bricks.  He 
shall  write  or  play,  as  the  case  may  be,  a  fair  hand,  be  cogni 
zant  of  the  French  language,  accustomed  to  female  society, 
and  well  disposed  to  the  good  order  and  happiness  of  the  same. 

"  Fifth :  There  shall  be  a  committee  of  three  of  the  most 
venerable,  wise,  sagacious,  and  prudent  stockholders,  most 
noted  for  wisdom  and  virtue,  whose  duty  it  shall  be  to  taste 
and  smell  for  the  institution,  and  their  sessions  shall  be  secret. 

REGULAE  GENERALES. 

"  All  the  financial  business  of  the  Third  House  shall  be  trans 
acted  through  this  institution  :  the  debentures  of  the  mem 
bers,  the  bounty  on  sap  and  putty,  the  expenses  of  the  militia 
system,  of  the  construction,  painting,  and  repair  of  the  wooden 
side  judges,  and  of  such  excursions  as  may  be  made  by  the 
Third  House,  and  the  expenses  of  the  Montpelier  Hotel  Com 
pany  shall  be  paid  at  the  counter  in  the  circulating  notes  of 
the  bank  ;  and  any  other  business  thought  proper,  when  met. 

"  All  subscriptions  to  the  capital  stock  shall  be  payable  in 
trout,  spruce-gum,  lumber,  game-birds,  charcoal,  powder  and 
shot,  fish-hooks,  Monongahela  whiskey,  or  other  liquids  to  the 
acceptance  of  the  tasters  and  smellers ;  and  in  drafts  on  the 
North  American  Dog  Association,  indorsed  by  Col.  Brick,  on 
the  call  of  the  commissioners  and  at  the  option  of  the  sub 
scribers  ;  provided,  that  before  signing  each  person  shall  de 
posit  with  the  commissioners,  for  the  use  of  the  stockholders, 
one  pint  of  such  fluid  as  shall  be  approved  by  the  tasters  and 
smellers,  and  shall  take  the  following  oath  or  affirmation,  viz.  : 


42  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

"  You  do  solemnly  swear  or  affirm,  as  the  case  may  be,  that 
you  do  subscribe  for  shares  in  the  Moosalamoo  Bank  in  good 
faith  in  the  feasibility  of  the  measure  and  in  the  hope  of  fat 
dividends ;  with  the  intent  on  your  part  to  retain  all  you 
may  get,  and  get  what  you  can  for  your  own  use  and  benefit 
of  the  stockholders  generally,  and  not  under  any  agreement, 
understanding,  or  expectation  that  your  subscription  shall 
inure  to  the  benefit  of  any  third  person  or  at  his  expense  (save 
in  the  way  of  refreshments),  and  that  you  will  improve  the 
dividends  to  the  advancement  of  sound  national  principles 
and  the  supremacy  of  the  Third  House. 

"  Long  may  you  wave. " 

The  foregoing  charter  will  become  known  to  future 
generations,  if  historians  do  justice  to  the  Third 
House,  not  only  as  the  most  comprehensive,  but  as 
positively  the  last  special  bank  charter  presented  to 
the  Vermont  legislature.  As  a  measure  of  State 
economy  it  ought  to  have  seeured  a  large  measure  of 
popular  gratitude  to  the  members  of  the  "Third 
House."  But  republics  are  notoriously  ungrateful, 
and  instead  of  approving  our  patriotic  labors  the 
members  of  the  lower  houses  denounced  us  as  a  set 
of  pestiferous  scamps  who  lay  awake  nights  to  in 
vent  new  schemes  for  ridiculing  our  superiors. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
WOODEN  SIDE  JUDGES  OF  THE  COUNTY  COURTS. 

THE  "side  judges"  also  had  the  attention  of  the 
Third  House.  This  was  a  purely  ornamental  office 
bestowed  upon  two  citizens  in  each  county,  who 
would  look  wise  and  say  nothing.  The  change  pro 
posed  would  have  been  promptly  adopted,  but  for  the 
opposition  of  an  ex- side  judge  from  Grand  Isle,  the 
smallest  county  in  the  State,  who  insisted  that  these 
officers  were  sometimes  consulted  by  the  judges  of  the 
Supreme,  who  always  presided  in  the  County  Courts. 
He  said  that  when  Judge  Samuel  S.  Phelps  was  on 
the  bench  and  one  of  the  lawyers  had  argued  a  dry 
ejectment  case  to  the  jury  for  eight  hours,  Judge 
Phelps  had  actually  consulted  him — that  although 
it  was  in  a  whisper,  the  judge  distinctly  asked, 
"Don't  he  make  your  back  ache?"  to  which  he,  the 
side  judge,  answered  that  he'd  "be  darned  if  he 
didn't !"  There  were  some  who  did  not  believe  this 
statement,  and  those  who  did  thought  it  should  not 
defeat  an  improvement  which,  after  the  first  outlay, 
would  save  the  State  expense,  and  had  other  ad 
vantages.  Accordingly,  early  in  the  session  a  res 
olution  was  introduced  and  referred  to  the  "  Com 
mittee  on  Useless  Information"  of  the  following  tenor : 

"Resolved,  That  it  is  expedient  that  the  present  system  of 
electing  side  County  Court  judges  ought  to  be  abolished,  and 
that,  in  future,  such  judges  should  be  manufactured  of  cast- 

43 


44  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

iron,  wood,  or  putty,  and  be  set  up  in  the  several  court-houses 
for  immediate  use. " 

The  committee,  after,  as  they  said,  giving  to  the 
subject  their  "  careful  and  prayerful  attention,"  re 
ported 

"that  the  institution  of  wooden  side  judges  for  the  present 
perishable  creatures  of  flesh  and  blood  would  eminently 
subserve  the  great  butt-ends  of  public  justice.  They  will  ren 
der  the  court  permanent.  Their  decisions  will  be  uniform. 
They  will  be  punctual.  They  could  not  be  brou'beaten  by 
insolent  language.  They  would  be  insensible  to  the  sophistry 
and  artful  appeals  of  demagogues.  They  would  be  incor 
ruptible.  The  measure  will  promote  cheapness  and  economy. 

"The  committee  had  been  much  assisted  by  the  learned  au 
thor  of  the  Astronomical  Calculations  for  Walton's  Register, 
a  gentleman  of  transcendent  abilities,  who  in  a  mathematical 
problem  in  the  rule  of  three  had  demonstrated  that  the  pres 
ent  side  judges  cost  the  people  $73  per  hundred,  while 
better  meat  has  been  selling  in  the  butchers'  stalls  for  three 
cents  per  pound. 

"  The  committee  had  been  in  doubt  about  the  kind  of  wood 
to  be  used.  Some  were  in  favor  of  spruce  because  it  could  be 
easily  kept  in  check  and  possessed  gum-ption  and  would 
stick  to  its  opinions.  But  it  was  objected  that  spruce  was 
ever-green  and  cross-grained.  Some  wanted  bass-wood  be 
cause  it  was  easily  impressed  and  exceedingly  sappy,  and  the 
court  would  never  be  a  heavy  court.  Others  favored  bird's- 
eye  maple,  for  it  would  keep  an  open  eye  upon  mischievous 
lawyers.  But  maple  had  to  be  rejected  because  it  was  inclined 
to  be  rotten-hearted. 

"After  conferring  with  the  Committee  on  Hocus  Pocus,  all 
differences  had  been  compromised,  and  the  committee  recom 
mended  the  construction  of  wooden  side  judges  as  follows, 
viz.  : 

"  The  heads  of  ebony,  with  heavy,  lowering  brows,  so  that 
wicked  lawyers  would  always  be  under  the  frown  of  the  court, 
the  highly  polished  faces  thereof  acting  like  a  mirror  casting 
reflections  upon  the  bar  for  its  sharp  practices.  The  eyes  to 
be  of  the  most  effulgent  punk-wood  obtainable ;  the  bodies 


WOODEN   SIDE  JUDGES.  45 

of  spruce,  so  that  the  court  may  be  kept  in  check,  possess 
gum  ption  and  stick  to  its  decisions  ;  the  heart  of  black  locust, 
for  it  never  rots  ;  the  bowels  of  cork,  for  by  reason  of  its  light 
ness  and  elasticity  they  would  be  more  easily  moved  by  the 
appeals  of  the  unfortunate ;  the  backbone  and  legs  of  well- 
seasoned  hickory,  without  joints,  so  that  the  court  may  not 
be  bent  to  the  purposes  of  unprincipled  lawyers ;  the  arms 
of  iron-wood,  to  remind  the  people  of  the  protection  of  the 
strong  arm  of  the  law  ;  the  feet  of  lignum  vitce,  so  that  the 
people  can  say  that  their  judges  have  solid  understandings. 

"  The  committee  also  recommend  that  the  Eutland  sculptor 
be  employed  to  make  150  plaster  casts  of  that  number  of  the 
best -dressed  members  of  the  Lower  House  most  noted  for  their 
beauty  and  sobriety  ;  and  that  150  wooden  images  be  manu 
factured  as  hereinbefore  provided,  which  shall  be  faithful 
copies  of  said  plaster  casts — 28  of  which  shall  be  distributed 
to  the  several  counties  in  the  State,  two  to  each  county,  to  be 
used  as  side  judges ;  that  any  attempt  to  usurp  their  places 
be  punished  as  high-treason  ;  that  three  be  donated  to  the  city 
of  Vergennes,  the  only  city  in  the  State  and  the  smallest  in 
the  world ;  that  fifty  be  delivered  to  the  president  of  the 
Historical  Society,  and  that  he  be  requested  to  deposit  them 
in  his  receptacle  of  'things  lost  upon  earth, '  to  evidence  the 
spirit  of  the  age  and  mark  an  era  in  judicial  history  ;  that 
the  balance  of  said  images  be  given  to  the  Resident  Agent  of 
International  Exchanges,  to  be  by  him  immediately  forwarded 
by  express  to  the  most  illustrious  of  the  crowned  heads  of 
Europe." 

The  logic  of  this  report  was  irresistible.  Its 
recommendations  were  all  adopted  with  very  little  op 
position.  But  the  "  perishable  creatures  of  flesh  and 
blood"  are  still  in  use;  their  wooden  substitutes  have 
never  been  sculptured.  They  would  have  been  con 
structed  in  1851,  as  the  committee  afterward  reported, 
but  for  an  unfortunate  complication.  There  were 
two  hundred  and  forty  members  of  the  Lower  House, 
and  every  one  of  them  insisted  that  he  ought  to  be  a 
model.  They  would  not  yield  to  any  compromise  or 


46  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

consent  that  the  fortunate  one  hundred  and  fifty 
should  be  ascertained  by  lot.  The  Senators  also  com 
plained  that  they  were  excluded  from  the  competition 
and  unfairly  deprived  of  an  opportunity  to  transmit 
their  portraits  to  posterity  at  the  expense  of  the  State ; 
and  so  it  fell  out  that,  as  in  many  other  instances, 
human  progress  was  delayed  and  a  great  improve 
ment  defeated  by  selfish  personal  interests. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE  VERMONT  FLOODWOOD    OR  RIGHT    ARM  OF 
HER  DEFENCE. 

SEVENTEEN  regiments  of  infantry  and  one  of 
cavalry;  four  companies  of  sharpshooters;  three 
batteries  and  one  company  of  artillery ;  six  hundred 
officers  contributed  to  the  naval  and  military  organi 
zations  outside  the  State;  5,287  lives,  or  6.8  per 
cent  of  her  sons  engaged — these  were  some  of  the 
contributions  of  Vermont  with  her  small  population 
to  the  preservation  of  the  Union  between  1861  and 
1865.  It  has  been  said  that  the  Vermonters  did  not 
lose  a  stand  of  colors  during  the  war.  Technically 
this  statement  is  true.  But  Vermont  cannot  afford  to 
have  her  record  clouded  even  by  a  distorted  statement. 
The  surrender  of  Harper's  Ferry  in  September, 
1862,  through  treachery  or  incompetency,  comprised 
the  Ninth  Vermont.  While  the  gallant  Stannard 
and  his  men,  enraged  that  they  were  not  permitted 
to  hew  their  way  out,  were  breaking  their  swords 
and  destroying  their  guns,  two  privates  divided  the 
colors  and  wore  them  on  their  persons.  One  of  them 
was  taken  sick  and  went  into  a  hospital,  where  they 
were  taken  from  him.  The  other  kept  his  portion 
concealed  six  months  until  he  was  exchanged.  This 
is  the  only  instance  in  which  the  enemy  ever  ob 
tained  even  a  part  of  a  Vermont  flag ! 

In  1851  the  military  resources  of  Vermont  were 
47 


48  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

only  spoken  of  with  ridicule  and  contempt.  I  doubt 
whether  she  had  even  the  skeleton  of  one  uniformed 
company.  Her  fighting  material  r  had  fallen  into 
such  a  state  of  innocuous  desuetude  that  it  comprised 
only  one  person  who  wore  a  uniform.  He  was  the 
adjutant  and  inspector-general,  who  as  a  private 
would  have  been  a  model  of  conceit,  but  who  swelled 
with  his  official  dignity  like  a  cock-sparrow  on  a 
mullein-stalk.  The  official  report  for  that  year  was 
as  ridiculous  as  could  well  be  imagined,  and  it  was 
so  stuffed  and  padded  with  military  terms  as  to  be 
incomprehensible  to  the  average  reader. 

Such  a  subject,  such  a  document,  and  such  an  officer 
formed  a  toothsome  morsel  for  the  Third  House.  I 
was  the  chairman  of  the  Committee  on  Floodwood. 
My  associates  were  a  poet  of  Democratic  principles 
and  a  Plattsburgh  Volunteer  who  in  1814  stayed  his 
steps  at  the  wharf  in  Burlington  because  for  the 
militia  to  go  outside  the  State  was  a  violation  of 
the  Federal  Constitution !  His  personal  appearance 
strongly  suggested  that  of  a  walrus,  and  he  added 
greatly  to  our  amusement  by  an  honest  belief  that 
we  were  in  "  dead  earnest "  in  our  efforts  to  excite 
the  military  ardor  of  the  Green  Mountain  boys. 

My  committee  did  not  permit  the  grass  to  grow 
under  its  feet.  It  promptly  reported  that  existing 
laws  relating  to  the  militia  were  "  unconstooshunal" 
(this  was  the  word  of  the  Plattsburgh  Volunteer) 
and  in  utter  disregard  of  the  precepts  of  the  Father 
of  his  Country  and  the  great  Apostle  of  Democracy, 
namely,  G.  Washington  and  T.  Jefferson.  So  much 
was  obvious  from  the  masterly,  eloquent,  and  lucid 
report  of  the  adjutant-general,  which  covered  so 
much  ground  that  there  was  none  left  for  the  com- 


THE   VERMONT   FLOODWOOD.  49 

mittee  to  stand  upon.  We  therefore  reported  "  An 
Act  for  the  resurrection  of  the  Vermont  Floodwood, 
and  to  create  certain  salaried  officers  therein  named." 
This  act  in  its  first  section  provided : 

"  That  it  shall  be  the  duty  of  every  male  citizen  above  the 
age  of  sixteen  years  forthwith  to  provide  himself  with  a  red 
feather  or  plume,  at  least  three  feet  long,  together  with  such 
other  ornaments  as  the  taste  or  ability  of  the  individual  may 
suggest,  with  some  offensive  weapon,  not  dangerous  to  be 
handled,  a  priming  wire  and  brush,  for  the  purpose  of  doing 
duty  in  the  flood  wood  of  this  State.  Provided  that  in  lieu  of 
these  ornaments  and  equipments  any  person  may  provide 
himself  with  any  musical  instrument  whereon  he  may  be  able 
to  play. 

"  SECTION  2. — It  shall  be  the  duty  of  every  such  male  citizen 
to  repair,  armed,  equipped,  and  ornamented  as  provided  in 
the  first  section,  at  the  break  of  day  on  Tuesday  and  Thursday 
of  each  week,  to  the  yard  of  the  dwelling-house  of  the  town 
clerk  of  the  town  where  he  resides,  for  floodwood  purposes  and 
general  training,  and  to  spend  said  days  until  sundown 
in  such  services. 

"SECTION  3. — There  shall  be  at  least  two  officers  to  every  pri 
vate  in  the  Vermont  floodwood,  provided  that  any  person  with 
curled  hair  and  black  whiskers  shall  be  ex-whiskerando  an 
officer  of  as  high  a  grade  as  lieutenant-general. 

"  SECTION  4.  — It  shall  be  the  duty  of  the  adjutant  and  inspec 
tor-general  immediately  to  set  out  from  his  place  of  abode, 
armed  and  equipped  as  the  law  directs,  preceded  by  drum- 
major,  drummer,  fifer,  and  corporal,  armed  with  some  weapon 
of  war,  and  proceed  into  each  school  district  to  consult  with 
the  boys  as  to  the  best  method  of  encouraging  a  spirit  of  mar 
tial  ardor,  and  to  make  permanent  arrangements  with  the 
school  master  or  mistress,  as  the  case  may  be,  as  to  the  best 
way  to  get  up  a  spirit  of  military  enthusiasm  and  induce  the 
pupils  of  each  school  to  attend  all  June  and  other  trainings 
in  such  towns. 

"  SECTION  5.  — There  shall  be  immediately  appointed  one  hun 
dred  and  fifty  assistant  adjutant -generals — men  noted  for 
personal  beauty,  to  be  chosen  by  a  female  committee  of  three 
4 


50  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

of  mature  age,  to  be  named  by  the  governor  ;  which  officers 
shall  assist  the  present  adjutant- general  in  the  discharge  of 
his  arduous  duties  and  hold  up  the  general  interests  of  the 
floodwood.  These  officers,  if  already  married,  or  if  they  shall 
marry  within  sixty  days  after  their  appointment,  shall  hold 
office  for  life  with  an  annual  salary  of  $1, 500  each  per  annum. " 

This  act  was  laid  on  the  table  and  published  in 
the  Third  House  Journal.  It  brought  the  disgrace 
ful  condition  of  the  militia  to  the  attention  of  the 
State  and  excited  a  universal  demand  for  its  refor 
mation.  A  well-framed  act  to  that  end  was  promptly 
introduced  into  the  Senate.  Those  who  had  opposed 
similar  acts  on  the  score  of  expense  were  set  upon  by 
the  newspapers  and  lashed  into  silence.  The  new 
act  simply  provided  that  the  State  should  furnish 
arms  to  uniformed  companies,  and  pay  the  men  a 
per  diem  for  a  few  days'  drill  in  each  year.  The 
consequence  was  that  uniformed  companies  were  or 
ganized  in  the  larger  towns  and  their  ranks  kept 
full.  So  that  when  at  last  Sumter  fell  and  the 
summons  came,  it  was  answered  by  the  formation  of 
the  First  Vermont  Regiment,  ready  at  Rutland  to  be 
mustered  into  the  service  on  the  8th  of  May,  1861. 

It  may  be  thought  that  I  am  giving  too  much 
space  to  a  subject  so  unimportant  as  the  Third 
House.  But  its  influence  upon  legislation  was 
powerful  and  permament.  Once  the  lower  Houses 
were  rash  enough  to  complain  of  the  librarian  for 
permitting  such  "  pestilent  fellows"  to  show  up  their 
follies  in  the  State  Library.  This  complaint  made 
great  fun  for  us.  We  forthwith  published  our  solemn 
protest  against  the  interference  of  their  spies  with 
our  dignified  sessions,  and  gave  notice  that  if  they 
provoked  us  farther  we  would  appeal  to  the  people 


THE    VERMONT    FLOODWOOD.  51 

to  abolish  the  lower  Houses  altogether,  so  that  "  the 
places  that  once  knew  them  should  know  them  no 
more  forever, "  and  they  "  shall  cease  to  have  a  local 
habitation  and  a  name ;"  and  the  dark  chambers  where 
they  met  and  played  "fantastic  tricks  before  high 
Heaven,  under  the  delusion  that  they  were  clothed 
with  a  little  brief  authority, "  "  shall  be  given  over  to 
desolation,  and  only  the  hooting  of  the  owl  be  heard 
within  their  walls ;"  "  and  the  satyr  shall  dance  there, 
and  the  great  owl  and  the  pelican,  and  the  gier-eagle 
shall  nest  and  the  cormorant  shall  brood  there,  when 
those  members  have  been  driven  forth  into  exile  and 
outer  darkness  by  the  voices  of  an  indignant  people." 
After  this  they  let  us  alone,  and  we  continued  to 
make  their  action  as  ridiculous  as  possible.  Almost 
every  project  we  touched  we  destroyed.  They  had 
planned  an  excursion  to  Rouse's  Point,  where  a  rail 
road  bridge  across  the  lake  was  advocated  and  op 
posed  on  the  most  absurd  grounds.  We  at  once  ar 
ranged  to  "excurse  to  Pocatapaug  Flats,  where  it 
was  feared  that  a  proposed  bridge  would  raise  the 
water  ten  miles  above,  four  feet  higher  than  at  the 
bridge,  whereby  the  navigation  of  Lake  Pemigewasset 
in  New  Hampshire  would  be  obstructed,"  and  the  leg 
islature  took  no  more  excursions.  They  passed  a 
stringent  act  against  the  use  of  strong  liquors  except 
for  "mechanical,  medicinal,  and  chemical  purposes." 
Our  Committee  on  Useless  Information  produced 
sundry  vouchers  for  the  year  1788,  containing 
"  rhum,  cyder,  and  flip  "  for  the  legislature,  approved 
by  Governor  Thomas  Chittenden,  and  we  compro 
mised  the  opposition  by  enacting  that  the  term 
"  mechanical "  in  the  act  should  include  the  raising 
of  barns  and  like  cases,  "medicinal"  should  cover 


52  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

cases  of  thirst  and  the  like,  and  "  chemical "  cases 
where  the  fluid  was  employed  as  an  aid  to  digestion. 
Two  railroads  on  competing  lines  leading  to  Boston 
had  almost  reached  Lake  Champlain  at  Burlington. 
One  of  them  by  a  combination  with  another  leading 
northward  would  reach  the  lake  at  Rouse's  Point. 
The  other  sought  for  a  parallel  charter  to  reach  the 
same  point.  A  fierce  contest  resulted — one  endeavor 
ing  to  defeat  the  application  for  a  bridge  so  that  its 
competitor  could  not  cross;  the  other  to  defeat  the 
charter  so  that  its  competitor  could  not  reach  the  lake. 
The  arguments  of  both  parties  were  equally  absurd 
and  altogether  ignored  the  public  interest.  It  was  this 
contest  which  called  for  the  Committee  on  Hocus- 
Pocus,  Log-Rolling,  Wire- Working,  etc.  This  com 
mittee  was  made  up  of  the  presidents  of  the  two  com 
peting  roads  and  the  one  leading  from  Burlington 
north.  That  committee  made  a  solemn  and  compre 
hensive  report  on  the  abstruse  subject  of  log-rolling, 
which  caused  the  very  proper  grant  of  both  charters 
as  the  public  interest  demanded. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 
A  GRATEFUL  CLIENT. 

IT  was  before  the  invention  of  the  telegraph,  when 
Vermont  had  no  railroads  and  the  Green  Mountains 
were  supposed  to  present  an  insurmountable  barrier 
to  their  construction.  One  afternoon,  when  the  teller 
of  the  oldest,  soundest,  and  most  conservative  bank 
in  Burlington  was  about  to  seal  up  his  daily  package 
of  current  bills  for  transmission  to  the  common  re 
deemer  of  country  banks,  the  Suffolk  Bank  in  Boston, 
there  entered  the  bank  a  youth,  apparently  inexperi 
enced  and  very  unsophisticated,  who  with  a  bashful 
air  asked  if  he  could  leave  a  little  money  in  the  bank 
for  a  few  days.  He  was  travelling,  he  said,  to  see 
the  country.  His  father  advised  him,  when  he  in 
tended  to  stay  in  any  place  for  a  few  days,  always 
to  leave  his  money  in  a  bank.  Burlington  was  a 
beautiful  town.  He  would  stay  here  a  few  days  and 
would  like  to  do  what  his  father  recommended.  The 
teller,  who  thought  the  young  man  should  be  en 
couraged  in  well-doing,  said  he  would  take  his  money 
on  deposit. 

The  youth  then  proceeded  to  extract  a  number  of 
pins  from  the  breast-pocket  of  his  coat,  from  which 
he  drew  a  sealed  envelope,  which  he  opened,  expos 
ing  a  pocket-book  of  ancient  construction,  in  which 
lay  fifteen  new  and  crisp  bank-notes  each  for  $100, 
apparently  issued  by  the  "  Shoe  and  Leather  Bank  of 

53 


54  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

Boston."  The  teller  cast  his  eye  upon  them.  He 
recognized  the  genuine  appearance  of  the  bills. 
They  were  just  what  the  bank  wanted.  They  would 
increase  the  credit  of  the  bank  with  the  Suffolk  just  at 
a  time  when  circulation  was  coming  in  and  they  were 
having  some  trouble  to  take  care  of  it.  He  asked 
the  name  of  the  depositor,  entered  his  deposit  upon 
a  book,  handed  it  to  the  careful  boy,  added  his  deposit 
to  the  package,  and  increased  his  remittance  by  that 
amount.  Just  then  the  expressman  called,  received 
the  package,  and  the  transaction  was  closed. 

As  soon  as  the  bank  opened  the  next  morning  the 
young  man  was  its  first  customer.  He  had  received 
a  letter  announcing  the  dangerous  illness  of  his 
mother  and  must  return  home  at  once.  He  regretted 
it,  for  he  had  never  seen  so  beautiful  a  town  as  Bur 
lington,  and  he  wanted  to  stay  there  a  week  or  ten 
days.  But  he  would  have  to  leave  at  once  and  had 
called  for  his  money.  The  teller  counted  out  fifteen 
hundred  dollars  in  bills  of  his  bank  and  was  about 
to  enter  the  credit  on  the  deposit- book,  when  the  boy 
protested.  He  "  wanted  the  same  bills  he  had  de 
posited!  He  knew  all  about  those  bills,"  he  said. 
"  He  knew  nothing  about  those  which  the  teller  of 
fered  him !"  The  teller  explained  to  him  that  his  notes 
had  been  sent  to  Boston,  that  the  notes  of  his  bank 
were  just  as  good.  The  boy  was  finally  half-satis 
fied,  deposited  the  bills  in  his  breast-pocket,  pinned 
it  up,  and  courteously  took  his  leave. 

In  due  course  of  mail  the  teller  and  his  bank 
learned  that  the  careful  boy's  deposit  was  worth  just 
fifteen  dollars,  every  one  of  the  one-hundred-dollar 
bills  having  been  neatly  altered  f rom  a  genuine  bill  for 
one  dollar ! 


A    GRATEFUL    CLIENT.  55 

Now  the  bank  had  a  comfortable  surplus  upon 
which  $1,500  would  make  but  little  impression.  But 
the  mortification  of  the  bank  officers,  swindled  by 
such  an  apparent  greenhorn,  was  intolerable.  They 
made  every  effort  to  suppress  the  incident,  but  it  be 
came  public,  and  the  ridicule  of  the  newspapers  and 
the  comments  of  their  brother  bank  officers  were 
very  hard  to  bear.  The  bank  spared  neither  time 
nor  money  in  its  efforts  to  bring  the  guilty  parties  to 
justice.  There  were  no  Pinkertons  then,  but  there 
were  private  detectives.  These  were  employed,  large 
rewards  were  offered,  several  arrests  were  made,  but 
they  were  unable  to  lay  hands  upon  the  inexperi 
enced  traveller.  Among  the  private  detectives  em 
ployed  was  one  who  afterward  became  somewhat 
notorious,  under  the  name  of  Marcus  Cicero  Stanley. 

Some  two  years  after  the  event  the  newspapers  an 
nounced  that  the  criminal  had  been  captured.  The 
teller  had  identified  him  in  a  crowd  of  prisoners  in 
the  "Tombs,"  in  New  York  City,  and  after  a  vigor 
ous  resistance  by  legal  obstructions  he  had  been 
brought  to  Burlington  under  a  requisition  from  the 
governor. 

"  The  young  man  who  is  charged  with  passing  the 
altered  bank-notes  wishes  to  see  you,"  said  the 
sheriff  to  me  one  morning  in  court  some  days  after 
the  prisoner's  arrival. 

"I  want  business,"  I  answered,  "but  not  quite 
enough  to  go  to  the  jail  after  it  and  undertake  the 
defence  of  a  counterfeiter." 

"  He  may  not  be  a  counterfeiter, "  said  the  sheriff. 
"  At  all  events,  I  have  become  interested  in  the 
young  man,  ancj  I  will  bring  him  to  your  office  if 
you  will  hear  his  story." 


56  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

I  assented  to  the  request  of  the  sheriff.  He  came 
to  my  office  with  a  young  man  who  did  not  look  like 
a  counterfeiter.  He  was  apparently  about  twenty 
years  old ;  was  neatly  dressed ;  had  rather  a  feminine 
expression  and  the  address  of  a  gentleman  familiar 
with  the  usages  of  good  society.  When  the  sheriff 
had  presented  him  he  drew  from  his  finger  a  ring 
containing  a  single  diamond,  which  he  offered  to  me. 
"There,"  he  said,  "is  the  only  thing  of  value  I  pos 
sess.  In  the  '  Tombs  '  in  New  York  I  fell  into  the 
hands  of  shysters  who  got  all  my  money,  nearly  all 
my  clothing,  even  to  my  linen,  and  when  they  had 
stripped  me  of  everything  they  could  sell  or  pawn 
they  abandoned  me.  This  ring  was  in  a  pocket-book 
or  they  would  have  had  that.  I  am  brought  here 
among  strangers,  destitute.  But  I  am  innocent,  and 
if  you  will  defend  me  I  will  pay  you  if  I  live." 

"  Have  you  any  proof  of  your  innocence?"  I  asked. 

"  Only  this,"  he  said.  "  As  I  was  leaving  the  police 
court  in  the  Tombs  the  clerk  handed  me  this."  He 
showed  me  a  letter  dated  in  the  police  court,  of  the 
following  import : 

"I  doubt  whether  this  young  man  is  guilty  of  the  crime 
charged.  I  know  that  he  was  not  identified  by  the  teller,  among 
the  Tombs  prisoners,  until  he  was  pointed  out  by  Stanley  after 
the  teller  had  selected  another  man. 

"S.  H.  STUART,  Clerk.'" 

He  then  told  me  his  story.  "  I  do  not  remember  my 
father  or  mother,"  he  said.  "  The  first  thing  I  do  re 
member  is  living  in  the  streets  of  New  York,  sleeping 
in  a  box  or  anywhere  I  could  find  shelter.  Then  I  was 
an  errand-boy  in  a  policy-shop  in  the  Bowery,  where 
I  swept  the  office,  ran  errands,  slept  under  the 
stairs,  was  kicked  and  cuffed  by  everybody.  After 


A    GRATEFUL    CLIENT.  57 

some  years  I  saved  a  little  money  and  ran  away.  I 
worked  my  way  to  St.  Louis,  where  I  got  employment 
as  a  cabin-boy  on  a  Mississippi  steamboat.  The  cap 
tain  was  kind  to  me,  and  when  his  boat  was  laid  up  I 
went  to  a  night-school,  where  I  learned  to  read  and 
write.  I  was  on  that  boat  more  than  three  years.  I 
was  waiter,  steward,  bar-tender,  and  finally  clerk  or 
second  officer.  I  saved  money  and  tried  to  be  a 
gentleman.  The  captain  died  and  I  decided  to  go  to 
California.  I  had  six  hundred  dollars  and  a  trunk 
filled  with  good  clothes.  I  came  to  New  York, 
bought  my  ticket  by  the  way  of  the  Isthmus.  Then 
I  was  arrested  by  Stanley;  you  know  the  rest.  I 
was  never  nearer  this  town  than  Albany  until  I  was 
brought  here  charged  with  this  crime." 

"Did  you  know  Stanley  in  New  York?"  I  asked. 

"  Yes — as  a  boy  would  know  a  lottery  sharp  who 
made  the  office  his  headquarters." 

"  Was  there  any  hearing  in  your  case  in  New 
York?" 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  would  call  it.  While  my 
money  lasted  I  was  brought  into  court  almost  daily. 
When  that  was  gone  I  was  sent  here  at  once." 

"  Then  you  do  not  know  what  evidence  was  pro 
duced  against  you?" 

"  No.  I  was  told  that  one  of  the  bank  officers  un 
dertook  to  identify  me  at  the  Tombs.  We  prisoners 
were  all  brought  into  a  room  together.  I  was  told 
that  the  teller  first  selected  a  man  who  was  serving  a 
three-days'  sentence  for  intoxication.  And  I  have 
heard  that  one  of  Stanley's  friends  says  that  I  told 
him  how  neatly  I  deceived  the  teller.  That  was  a 
lie,  but  Stanley  would  rather  prefer  a  lie." 

I  told  the  young  man,  who    said  his    name  was 


58  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

Thomas  B.  Wilson,  that  his  story  gave  scarcely  a 
shadow  of  available  evidence  in  his  favor.  The 
statement  of  the  teller  made  a  prima- facie  case.  If 
that  was  confirmed  by  a  confession,  testified  to  even 
by  an  accomplice,  I  did  not  see  any  way  of  meeting 
it.  If  he  attempted  to  prove  that  he  was  on  the  Mis 
sissippi  at  the  time,  his  captain  was  dead,  and  if  alive, 
we  could  not  use  his  deposition  in  a  criminal  case. 
It  might  be  better  for  him  to  plead  guilty  and  so 
get  a  lighter  sentence. 

"I  am  not  guilty,"  he  said.  " I  will  never  plead 
guilty  if  I  am  sentenced  for  life  and  know  that  by 
pleading  guilty  I  could  get  off  with  one  year  in  the 
State  prison.  I  have  no  claim  on  you,  an  entire 
stranger,  but  don't  you  see  it  is  my  last  chance?  I 
ask  you  to  defend  me  on  my  promise.  If  you  will, 
I  will  never  leave  this  town  until  I  have  paid  you 
and  have  convinced  decent  people  that  I  am  neither 
a  counterfeiter  nor  a  fraud." 

This  looked  a  little  like  bravado,  and  yet  I  could  not 
avoid  some  prepossession  in  his  favor.  I  said  that 
his  trial  would  not  come  on  for  some  weeks ;  that  I 
would  consider  his  request  and  let  him  know  within 
a  few  days  whether  I  would  appear  in  his  behalf. 

I  corresponded  with  a  firm  in  St.  Louis  which  he 
said  was  the  agent  of  the  steamboat  on  which  he  was 
employed.  They  answered  that  they  remembered 
such  a  man,  but  could  not  say  that  they  knew  him 
as  early  as  the  date  of  the  crime.  The  clerk  of  the 
"  Tombs"  police  court  answered  that  the  pretended 
identification  took  place  in  his  presence ;  that  there 
was  nothing  in  it ;  that  the  teller  first  selected  an 
other  prisoner,  and  only  named  Wilson  after  he  had 
been  pointed  out  by  Stanley,  This  proof,  however^ 


A    GRATEFUL    CLIENT.  59 

could  not  avail  him  unless  the  clerk  would  appear 
at  the  trial. 

A  man  unjustly  accused  should  never  despair. 
There  is  a  human  magnetism  that  may  save  him. 
As  the  time  for  the  trial  approached  the  sheriff  be 
came  a  firm  believer  in  Wilson's  innocence  and  pro 
posed  to  pay  the  expenses  of  Stuart,  the  police-court 
clerk,  if  he  would  attend  the  trial  and  I  would  de 
fend  Wilson.  The  bank  in  the  mean  time  had  caused 
Wilson's  arrest  in  a  civil  action  to  recover  the  money. 
Under  these  circumstances  I  consented  to  appear  for 
him.  He  had  in  the  mean  time  been  employed  by 
the  sheriff  as  clerk  in  a  hotel  kept  by  him  in  a  build 
ing  connected  with  the  jail,  and  had  made  himself 
very  popular  with  its  country  patrons. 

Still  the  prospects  of  his  trial  were  very  discour 
aging.  The  presiding  judge  of  the  court,  although 
he  intended  to  be  impartial,  always  presumed  that  a 
person  charged  with  crime  was  guilty  until  his 
innocence  was  proved ;  the  statutes  did  not  then  per 
mit  the  prisoner  to  testify;  the  bank  officers  were 
influential  citizens  who  took  a  deep  interest  in  secur 
ing  Wilson's  conviction,  and  the  able  counsel  for  the 
bank  were  permitted  to  conduct  the  prosecution. 
They  made  the  trial  dramatic.  After  giving  a  history 
of  the  crime  and  of  his  identification  of  the  prisoner 
in  the  "  Tombs,"  the  teller  was  asked : 

"Where  is  the  person  now  who  gave  you  those 
altered  bills?"  The  teller  waited  until  the  attention 
of  the  crowded  audience  was  fixed  upon  the  prisoner ; 
then  pointing  to  him  he  replied  with  emphasis : 

"  There  sits  the  man.  I  am  as  certain  of  it  as  I  am 
that  I  am  a  witness !  " 

Hopeless  as  the  prospect  appeared,  I  cross-examined 


60  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

the  teller  fairly  but  very  closely.  In  the  dim  twi 
light  of  the  court-room,  with  the  respondent  sitting 
half  concealed  behind  me,  I  made  him  describe 
the  counterfeiter  as  he  was  when  he  passed  the  notes. 
He  did  not  suspect  my  purpose  and  described  the 
green,  awkward  country  lout  with  the  skill  of  a 
painter.  He  imitated  his  nasal  voice,  his  dialect, 
his  motions,  until  the  jury  had  before  them  the  very 
image  of  the  man.  The  lights  were  then  brought 
in,  and  Wilson  was  asked  to  stand  up  in  front  of  the 
jury  and  near  the  witness.  He  was  a  handsome,  well- 
dressed  young  gentleman,  as  different  from  the  per 
son  of  the  counterfeiter  just  described  by  the  witness 
as  could  be  imagined.  His  demeanor  was  unstudied 
and  perfectly  natural.  The  confidence  of  conscious 
innocence  seemed  to  be  expressed  by  his  countenance. 
Anybody  could  see  that  his  appearance  did  not  cor 
respond  to  that  of  the  criminal  as  it  rested  in  the 
memory  of  the  witness  in  the  slightest  degree ;  any 
body  could  understand  that  if  he  were  guilty  no  re 
liance  could  be  placed  upon  human  judgment  of  the 
exterior  of  men  accused  of  crime. 

"Mr.  G.,"  I  asked,  "do  you  consider  yourself  an 
experienced  judge  of  men?" 

"I  ought  to  be,"  he  said,  "after  an  experience  of 
thirty  years." 

"You  have  testified  that  you  identified  Wilson 
among  a  number  of  other  prisoners  in  the  '  Tombs.' 
Please  point  out  to  the  jury  what  you  saw  in  him 
that  led  you  to  think  he  was  the  awkward,  green  coun 
tryman  who  passed  these  notes." 

I  have  cross-examined  many  witnesses.  I  re 
member  no  question  to  any  of  them  which  produced 
such  an  effect.  He  hesitated,  seemed  making  an 


A    GRATEFUL   CLIENT.  61 

effort  to  speak,  and  was  silent.  Waiting  until  I 
thought  the  due  effect  was  produced  on  the  jury,  I 
said: 

"  Never  mind !  we  can  all  appreciate  your  difficulty. 
Now  please  answer  me  this.  Did  you  not  first  select 
another  man  in  the  '  Tombs '  as  the  criminal?" 

He  hesitated  again  and  half  admitted  that  he  did. 

I  said  I  had  no  more  questions.  I  was  young  at 
the  bar,  but  I  had  learned  when  to  stop  in  the  cross- 
examination  of  a  hostile  witness.  The  skilful  counsel 
for  the  bank,  by  suggestions  and  otherwise,  made 
him  try  to  repair  the  damage.  The  attempt  was  un 
availing.  He  left  the  stand,  and  I  knew  that  a  fatal 
blow  had  been  struck  to  the  case  of  the  prosecution. 

I  gave  the  case  another  shock  when  I  called  Stuart, 
the  clerk  of  the  Tombs  police  court,  to  prove  that  the 
teller  first  selected  another  man.  He  was  an  elderly 
man  of  dignified  presence,  and  was  treated  by  the 
court  and  the  counsel  for  the  bank  as  if  he  had 
volunteered  to  protect  a  criminal.  His  evidence  was 
excluded  on  the  ground  that  the  teller  admitted  what 
I  offered  to  prove  by  him,  but  the  moral  effect  of  his 
presence  was  in  our  favor. 

I  will  not  prolong  the  account.  There  was  a  pow 
erful  argument  by  the  leading  counsel  of  the  bank,  a 
terrific  charge  against  him  by  the  judge,  but  to  the 
delight  of  the  audience,  manifested  by  ringing  cheers, 
the  jury  acquitted  the  prisoner. 

As  Wilson  could  not  furnish  bail,  I  moved  the 
trial  of  the  civil  action  in  favor  of  the  bank.  The 
bank  submitted  to  a  judgment  in  the  prisoner's 
favor,  and  as  it  had  the  right  to  do,  entered  a  review 
from  it  and  so  postponed  the  final  trial  until  the  next 
term,  a  delay  of  six  months. 


62  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

Wilson  knew  that  the  bank  would  have  the  evi 
dence  to  secure  a  verdict  at  the  next  trial,  if  money 
would  procure  it.  The  officers  treated  his  acquittal 
as  a  personal  defeat,  and  it  gave  them  excessive  an 
noyance.  He  had  some  advantages.  The  sheriff 
trusted  and  employed  him,  so  that  he  was  under  no 
restraint.  We  could  use  depositions  in  the  civil  case. 
Those  of  the  police  clerk,  the  warden  of  the  prison, 
and  of  the  person  first  identified  by  the  teller  were 
taken.  By  correspondence  Wilson  found  two  mer 
chants  in  St.  Louis  who  gave  their  depositions  that 
their  books  showed  that  Wilson  was  one  of  their  cus 
tomers  continuously  for  a  year  before  and  a  year 
after  the  crime  was  committed,  thus  proving  his 
alibi.  This  was  all  the  preparation  of  which  his 
case  admitted. 

•  A  day  or  two  before  the  term,  while  Wilson  was 
in  consultation  with  me  in  my  office,  my  clerk  pre 
sented  the  card  of  two  gentlemen  who  wished  to  see 
me.  The  card  bore  the  name  of  "  Mr.  Marcus  Cicero 
Stanley  and  friend."  I  showed  it  to  Wilson. 
"Let  them  come  in,"  he  said.  "Let  us  ascertain 
what  the  scoundrels  want."  They  were  admitted. 
Stanley  proved  to  be  a  small,  muscular  fellow,  with 
red  hair  and  whiskers.  He  had  the  restless  eyes  and 
hard  face  of  a  knave,  while  his  companion  had  the 
downcast  look,  well-oiled  hair,  and  furtive  bearing  of 
a  typical  thief.  "How  do  you  do,  Tom?"  said 
Stanley  with  friendly  cordiality.  Wilson  made  no 
response.  "  What  do  you  want,  gentlemen?"  I  de 
manded. 

Their  mission  was  characteristic.  Stanley  said 
the  bank  had  not  treated  them  well.  They  had  come 
from  New  York  at  its  request  to  testify  against  Wil- 


A    GRATEFUL   CLIENT.  63 

son.  The  bank  would  only  pay  them  some  small 
amount,  which  they  named.  If  Wilson  would  give 
them  one  hundred  dollars,  they  would  leave  the  State 
and  not  appear  against  him.  Wilson,  I  saw,  was 
almost  bursting  with  indignation. 

"What  do  you  know  against  Wilson?"  I  de 
manded. 

Stanley  said  he  had  seen  the  altered  notes,  and 
knew  when  Wilson  and  the  friend  here  present- 
started  from  New  York  to  "shove  them"  on  the 
country  banks  in  Vermont.  He  was  absent  a  few 
days  and  came  back  very  "flush"  with  money. 
Wilson  and  his  friend  took  the  steamer  through  the 
lake  at  Whitehall.  Wilson  landed  at  Burlington, 
while  his  friend  went  on  to  St.  Johns,  where  Wilson 
met  him  the  next  evening,  told  him  how  he  had 
"chiselled"  the  teller,  and  gave  him  half  the  profits 
of  the  swindle. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that  story,  Wilson?"  I 
asked. 

"If  I  had  any  fear  that  the  jury  would  believe 
those  scoundrels  I  would  pitch  them  out  of  this 
third-story  window !"  he  answered.  "  Stanley  ought 
to  be  in  the  State  prison,  I  know ;  and  from  his  ap 
pearance  I  think  that  other  fellow  has  been  there. 
I  have  not  a  hundred  dollars,  as  you  know.  If  I  had 
a  million  I  would  not  give  them  one  copper  to  save 
their  worthless  lives.  Pay  them 'to  go  away  after 
they  have  got  all  the  money  they  can  out  of  the 
bank?  No !  I  prefer  to  trust  a  fair  jury !" 

"  You  make  a  mistake,  Tom.     You  had  better 

"Stanley!  don't  you  call  me  Tom!  and  you  had 
best  not  tempt  me  farther.  I  have  been  robbed  of 
everything,  imprisoned,  disgraced  by  and  through 


64  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

t 

you.  You  are  a  coward,  I  know.  If  I  did  not  hope 
to  be  a  reputable  man  and  to  keep  out  of  trouble,  I 
would  brain  you  where  you  stand !  Heaven  knows 
that  it  is  difficult  for  me  to  keep  from  choking  the 
life  out  of  your  body !" 

Wilson  rushed  from  the  room.  I  knew  he  went 
because  he  feared  to  trust  himself,  and  I  could  not 
but  respect  him.  Stanley  tried  to  continue  the  inter 
view,  but  I  pointed  to  the  door  and  told  them  that 
they  had  their  answer.  "Then  we  will  have  to 
swear,"  he  said,  and  they  departed. 

The  trial  came  on.  We  had  what  I  have  often 
declared  to  be  the  safe  shelter  and  protection  of  an 
innocent  man,  a  jury  of  twelve  hard-headed,  sensible 
Vermont  farmers.  The  teller  told  his  story  as  be 
fore.  He  was  prepared  for  my  cross-examination 
now,  and  I  dropped  him  with  a  few  indispensable 
questions.  Stanley's  companion  then  took  the  stand 
and  testified  to  the  story  told  in  my  room.  His 
hang-dog  look  grew  more  villanous  when  I  sharply 
asked,  "When  were  you  last  in  State  prison?"  The 
counsel  for  the  bank  objected  that  I  must  show  the 
record  of  his  conviction.  The  court  sustained  the 
objection.  As  a  lawyer,  I  was  bound  to  submit,  but 
for  a  half-hour  I  put  proper  questions  to  him  under 
which  he  broke  down,  and  finally  blurted  out  the 
statement  that  he  had  been  pardoned  out  of  Sing 
Sing  that  he  might  give  his  testimony  on  this  trial. 

Then  Stanley  was  called.  As  he  passed  me  to  take 
the  stand,  he  secretly  placed  in  my  hand  a  scrap  of 
paper  on  which  was  written,  "  Ask  me  about  Wilson's 
whiskers  and  mustaches."  On  his  direct  exam 
ination  he  almost  made  a  splendid  witness  for  the 
bank.  He  knew  a  young  man  in  a  policy-office  who 


A    GRATEFUL   CLIENT.  65 

was  connected  with  a  gang  of  counterfeiters.  He 
was  quite  certain  it  was  Wilson.  The  gang  brought 
out  some  bills  altered  from  one  dollar  to  one  hundred 
dollars  on  a  bank  in  Boston.  They  were  a  skilful 
alteration.  The  gang  scattered  to  "shove  them." 
Wilson  left  the  city  for  some  weeks,  and  it  was  said 
that  he  had  gone  north  to  Canada  to  pass  these  bills. 
When  he  returned  he  had  a  lot  of  money.  He  knew 
it,  for  Wilson  paid  him  fifty  dollars,  which  he  owed 
him,  and  showed  him  a  large  bundle  of  bills  besides. 
He  produced  a  memorandum-book  showing  the  date 
of  this  payment.  It  coincided  with  the  date  of  the 
crime. 

As  the  testimony  stood,  it  was  unanswerable. 
My  case  depended  on  breaking  down  the  statement 
of  an  utter  wretch  who  was  also  an  experienced 
witness.  His  direct  evidence  was  completed,  and 
the  court  adjourned  for  the  day. 

I  was  very  cautious  on  his  cross-examination  the 
next  morning.  "  Are  you  willing  to  swear,"  I  asked, 
"  that  Wilson  here  is  the  person  you  knew  in  a  policy- 
office  in  the  Bowery?"  He  thought  he  was.  He 
was  almost  certain  of  it,  and  yet  he  declined  to  say 
that  he  might  not  be  mistaken.  "  Could  he  describe 
the  person  he  knew  there?"  "Certainly.  He  was 
a  young  man,  always  well  dressed,  with  dark  hair 
and  very  black  whiskers  and  mustache."  "Might 
not  his  whiskers  have  been  false?"  "  Certainly  not ! 
He  had  once  pulled  them  playfully,  to  Wilson's  great^ 
indignation.  They  were  very  black  and  very  gen 
uine."  So  much  he  knew. 

Again  Wilson  was  asked  to  stand  in  presence  of 
the  jury.     His  chin  and  upper  lip  were  as  innocent 
of  any  growth  of  hair  as  the  face  of  a  girl.     The 
5 


66  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

witness  was  required  to  examine  and  to  say  whether 
that  face  had  ever  borne  whiskers  or  mustaches. 

He  made  the  examination,  hesitated  for  a  moment, 
and  then  exclaimed:  "My  God!  gentlemen,  here 
has  been  a  fearful  mistake!  This  man  is  not  the 
person  I  once  knew.  He  is  not  the  man  who  was  in 
the  policy-shop — who  was  connected  with  the  coun 
terfeiters.  I  have  been  mistaken,  and  the  least  I  can 
do  is  to  apologize !" 

This  was  the  end  of  the  plaintiff's  case.  I  was 
satisfied  that  Stanley,  having  got  from  the  bank  all 
the  money  it  would  pay,  deliberately  deserted  it, 
and  decided  that  it  was  better  not  to  persist  in  his 
perjury.  A  verdict  in  Wilson's  favor  was  promptly 
returned  by  the  jury. 

A  day  or  two  after  his  acquittal,  Wilson  came  to 
my  office  with  two  citizens  of  the  town.  He  wished 
me  to  prepare  a  conveyance  of  a  vacant  lot  of  land  ad 
joining  the  bank  which  had  pursued  him  with  such 
energy,  and  a  contract  for  the  erection  upon  it  of  a 
building.  He  then  explained  to  me  that  he  should 
never  leave  the  town  until  every  citizen  who  was  un 
prejudiced  had  become  satisfied  that  he  was  neither 
a  counterfeiter  nor  a  criminal ;  that  he  therefore  in 
tended  to  go  into  business  and  establish  a  family 
grocery-store  adjoining  the  bank  which  had  accused 
him  and  made  him  so  much  trouble. 

I  prepared  the  contracts,  and  in  a  few  months  he 
was  established  in  business.  He  was  industrious, 
he  very  soon  had  a  large  circle  of  good  patrons,  and 
was  successful.  He  called  for  my  bill  of  charges,  and 
paid  me  liberally  within  a  few  months  after  his  store 
was  opened. 

Within  a  year  after  his  acquittal,  one  of  our  rep- 


A   GRATEFUL    CLIENT.  67 

utable  citizens  consulted  me  confidentially  upon  a 
subject  of  great  interest  to  him.  Wilson  had  asked 
him  for  the  hand  of  his  daughter.  His  conduct  had 
been  very  honorable ;  he  could  not  expect  at  present 
that  he  would  not  by  many  be  looked  upon  with  sus 
picion  and  not  as  a  reputable  man,  but  he  hoped  to 
live  down  all  prejudices  and  establish  himself  in  the 
good  opinion  of  the  public  in  the  end.  He  had  re 
ferred  the  father  of  the  young  lady  to  me,  for  I  knew 
more  about  him  than  any  one  else  and  •  would  no 
doubt  give  him  advice  upon  which  he  could  rely. 

I  assured  the  citizen  that  I  supposed  Wilson  had 
an  unknown  origin  and  was  almost  literally  a  child 
of  the  streets ;  but  I  thought  he  deserved  great  credit 
for  his  efforts  to  overcome  the  disadvantages  of  his 
birth  and  the  charges  made  against  him  by  the 
bank,  and  to  establish  his  innocence  and  become  a 
reputable  man ;  that  his  daughter  would  undoubtedly 
run  some  risk  and  sometimes  be  subjected  to  morti 
fication,  but  I  thought  the  chances  were  in  Wilson's 
favor ;  that  he  would  be  a  successful  business  man 
and  a  kind  husband. 

They  were  married  and  children  were  born  to 
them.  Mrs.  Wilson  was  a  plain  woman,  but  the 
town  contained  no  wife  more  contented,  no  more 
prudent,  discreet,  or  devoted  mother.  The  business 
of  her  husband  prospered;  he  took  his  wife's  parents 
into  his  family,  where  their  remaining  years  were 
passed  in  ease  and  comfort.  When  they  passed 
away  Wilson  closed  his  business,  sold  his  property, 
and  removed  his  family  to  New  York  City.  He  had 
a  strong  desire  to  conquer  a  position  in  the  city  from 
which  he  had  been  removed  as  a  criminal.  When  I 
next  had  news  of  him  he  had  become  the  purchaser 


68  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

of  a  church,  left  behind  by  the  up-town  movement  of 
its  congregation,  and  established  in  it  the  then  new 
business  of  manufacturing  and  distributing  mineral 
waters.  His  neat  wagons,  with  fine  Green  Mountain 
horses  and  well-dressed,  civil  drivers,  became  as 
common  in  the  streets  as  the  milk- wagons  of  country 
dairies. 

My  recreation  at  that  time  was  the  study  of  the 
natural  sciences,  and  I  was  engaged  in  making  a 
collection  of  all  the  birds  of  Vermont.  One  Christmas 
Eve  there  came  to  my  house  a  large  box,  upon  which 
the  express  charges  were  paid.  It  contained  an  early 
copy  of  the  author's  editions  of  Audubon's  Birds  and 
Audubon  and  Bachman's  Quadrupeds  of  America 
in  ten  elegantly  bound  octavo  volumes.  They  were 
my  Christmas  present  from  Wilson.  Their  money 
value  was  several  hundred  dollars,  but  they  had  a 
greater  value  to  me.  They  have  stood  on  my  library 
shelves  for  nearly  forty  years — they  stand  there  still, 
their  gloss  worn  off  by  many  consultations. 

This  story  has  a  moral.  The  bank  no  longer  ex 
ists.  Of  its  officers,  directors,  and  principal  owners, 
not  one  survives.  Their  descendants  are  not  numer 
ous  ;  I  do  not  know  one  who  has  been  conspicuous  in 
any  department  of  human  industry;  some  have  been 
no  credit  to  their  ancestors  or  their  advantages. 

Wilson's  children  have  grown  up  and  each  has 
gone  out  into  the  world  to  fight  his  or  her  own  battle 
of  life.  At  home  they  were  trained  by  a  careful 
mother,  with  the  good  example  of  the  father  as  an 
object-lesson.  The  university,  the  mercantile  col 
lege,  the  seminary  were  all  laid  under  contribution 
to  give  them  the  advantages  of  a  good,  practical 
education.  The  daughters  without  exception  are 


A    GRATEFUL    CLIENT.  69 

good  wives,  the  sons  are  successful  men — one  of  them 
may  be  called  an  eminent  mechanical  engineer.  All 
are  useful  members  of  society. 

At  the  time  there  were  many  who  believed  that  my 
intervention  had  enabled  a  reprobate  to  defeat  jus 
tice  and  evade  the  State  prison.  Most  of  them  have 
since  revised  their  conclusions.  I,  at  least,  have 
never  regretted  that  I  had  faith  in  a  young  man 
when  appearances  were  against  him,  that  I  defended 
him  on  credit,  and  so  secured  to  myself  at  least  one 
grateful  client. 


CHAPTER    IX. 
HYPNOTISM — SPIRITUAL  AND  OTHER  ISMS. 

"  THE  thing  that  hath  been,  it  is  that  which  shall 
be ;  and  that  which  is  done,  it  is  that  which  shall  be 
done;  and  there  is  no  new  thing  under  the  sun." 

It  is  a  common  expression  when  any  novel  and  ex 
traordinary  thing  is  seen  by  us  for  the  first  time  to 
say  that  nothing  like  this  was  ever  seen  before. 
This  is  almost  universally  asserted  of  what  are  called 
novel  spiritual  manifestations.  A  year  seldom  passes 
without  producing  them.  I  profess  no  ability  to  ex 
plain  or  account  for  them.  I  shall  describe  a  spirit 
ual  exhibition  which  I  once  witnessed,  just  as  well 
as  I  am  able  to,  exactly  as  we  supposed  we  saw  it, 
and  leave  my  readers  to  make  their  own  explana 
tions.  I  think  the  story  will  at  least  tend  to  confirm 
the  words  of  the  "  preacher. " 

It  is  useless  to  assert  that  all  believers  in  modern 
spiritualism  have  some  defect  in  their  intellectual  or 
ganization.  I  have  met  with  close  thinkers,  men  who 
possessed  the  mens  sana  in  corpore  sano,  who  be 
lieved  that  they  received  frequent  visits  from  the 
spirits  of  their  deceased  friends,  as  thoroughly  as 
they  believed  in  the  existence  of  any  object  which 
was  affirmed  by  all  their  senses. 

A  very  pleasant  writer  and  sound  thinker  was  S. 
C.  Hall,  for  so  many  years  editor  of  the  London  Art 
Journal.  And  a  very  entertaining  writer  was  Anna 
Maria,  as  he  called  her — his  wife.  They  were 

70 


HYPNOTISM— SPIRITUAL  AND  OTHER  ISMS.      71 

charming  in  their  own  beautiful  home,  and  none 
who  were  admitted  to  their  society  ever  failed  of 
delightful  memories.  Before  he  was  an  author  Mr. 
Hall  was  a  barrister,  trained  to  intellectual  con 
troversy,  and  those  who  discussed  moral  subjects 
with  him  soon  learned  not  to  despise  their  adver 
sary.  I  was  once  present  in  his  home  by  invitation, 
where  he  was  to  show  me  a  collection  of  Wedge  wood 
pottery,  which,  on  my  recommendation,  an  American 
friend  purchased.  He  was  thoroughly  familiar  with 
the  history  of  all  the  Wedgewood  pottery,  and  was 
in  the  middle  of  a  most  interesting  story  of  some  of 
Wedgewood's  disappointing  experiments,  when  he 
very  abruptly  said : 

"  Excuse  me !  It  had  entirely  escaped  my  memory, 
but  I  have  a  positive  engagement  at  this  hour.  It 
will  occupy  but  a  short  time.  Pray  amuse  yourself 
with  a  book  while  I  keep  it." 

I  said,  "  Certainly, "  and  went  to  an  open  book 
case,  expecting  to  see  him  go  out,  or  at  least  leave 
the  room.  To  my  surprise  he  remained  sitting  si 
lent  in  his  chair.  I  was  embarrassed.  I  did  not 
know  but  he  wanted  to  be  rid  of  me  before  attending 
to  his  appointment,  but  the  cordiality  of  his  manner 
and  his  suggestion  of  the  book  made  that  conclusion 
impossible.  I  waited ;  it  was  for  him  to  resume  the 
conversation  when  he  thought  proper. 

It  was  fifteen  minutes  by  the  watch  before  he  spoke. 
"I  have  a  very  dear  sister,"  he  said.  ;<  We  have 
long  been  accustomed  to  meet  in  this  room  every 
Tuesday  at  this  hour.  She  is  very  sensitive  and  I 
could  not  endure  the  thought  of  disappointing  her. 
But  I  do  deeply  regret  my  apparent  neglect  of  an 
American  visitor." 


72  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

"  I  beg  you  will  not  think  any  apology  is  necessary. 
My  apartments  are  only  a  few  blocks  away.  It  will 
put  me  to  no  inconvenience  to  come  again.  Does 
your  sister  reside  near  you?" 

"Very,  very  near,"  he  replied.  "She  is  in  the 
spirit- world.  She  went  there  twenty  years  ago. 
But  you  need  not  go,"  he  continued,  as  I  rose  to  take 
my  leave.  "  We  have  had  our  meeting  and  she  has 
gone !" 

He  resumed  the  subject  of  our  conversation  and 
completed  his  relation.  I  referred  to  the  subject  of 
spiritualism.  He  told  me  that  much  the  larger  por 
tion  of  his  intercourse  now  was  with  persons  in  the 
spirit-world,  that  Mrs.  Hall  was  in  full  sympathy 
with  his  belief,  and  that  some  of  their  most  delight 
ful  companions  were  no  longer  in  the  body.  It  was  as 
impossible  to  doubt  his  sincerity  as  his  personal  pres 
ence.  Nor  was  his  belief  at  all  unusual.  It  is  en 
tertained  by  many  who  will  not  and  a  few  who  are 
quite  willing  to  confess  their  faith. 

Forty  years  and  more  gone  by ;  a  showman  gave 
exhibitions  in  New  England.  He  was  a  bullet- 
headed,  loud-voiced  fellow  of  the  regular  circus  type. 
He  usually  selected  from  his  audience  a  dozen  or 
more  persons  whom  he  seated  in  the  front  row.  In 
the  right  hand  of  each  man  he  placed  a  small  disk  of 
copper,  with  a  round  piece  of  brass  in  its  centre. 
Each  person  was  directed  to  fix  his  mind  intently  on 
this  disk,  while  the  "  Professor,"  as  he  called  himself, 
gyrated  with  his  hands  and  looked  fierce  with  his 
eyes.  After  a  few  minutes  of  this  senseless  perform 
ance  he  assorted  his  subjects.  Some  he  returned 
to  their  seats,  the  majority  of  the  others  he  seated 
together  in  view  of  the  audience. 


HYPNOTISM— SPIRITUAL  AND  OTHER  ISMS.      73 

Without  any  explanation  he  began  his  exhibition. 
"  It  is  very  cold !  I  am  almost  freezing !"  Each  of  his 
subjects  began  to  shiver  and  tremble  with  apparent 
cold.  "  How  hot  it  is !"  and  while  some  threw  off  their 
coats,  others  fanned  themselves,  still  others  rushed  to 
and  opened  the  windows,  and  all  appeared  to  be  suf 
fering  from  the  heat. 

"  Look,"  said  he,  "  at  that  lovely  picture.  See  that 
mother  with  the  child — could  anything  be  more 
lovely?"  They  clasped  their  hands  and  gazed  with 
adoration.  "This  is  my  garden.  Here  are  roses 
and  flowers,  peaches  and  plums  of  exquisite  taste! 
Gather  as  many  as  you  like !"  Some  picked  flowers 
and  pinned  them  on  their  breasts;  others  ate  the 
peaches  as  if  they  were  luscious.  "Be  careful. 
Those  are  not  peaches,  they  are  wild  turnips." 
Wild  turnips  sting  the  mouth  as  severely  as  red 
peppers.  Forthwith  they  expelled  the  turnips  from 
their  mouths  and  called  for  water,  ice,  and  snow. 
"Look,"  he  said,  "at  all  those  gold  eagles,"  pointing 
to  a  corner.  "  Every  one  may  have  as  many  as  he  can 
pick  up. "  They  rushed  against  and  over  each  other, 
tore  one  another  out  of  the  way,  and  sprawled  upon 
the  floor  in  their  efforts  to  get  them.  When  the 
scramble  was  the  worst,  he  made  a  single  pass  with 
his  hand  which  restored  each  to  his  senses.  They 
went  to  their  seats,  looking  as  sheepish  as  possible. 

Then  he  prepared  for  the  exhibition  of  tying  a 
man  in  a  closet,  who  played  on  the  banjo  and  went 
through  other  performances  too  common  to  require 
description.  This  was  followed  by  mind-reading 
and  finally  by  professed  communications  with  the 
spirits.  To  all  which  the  more  intelligent  of  the 
audience  paid  little  attention. 


74  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

But  on  the  following  evening  one  of  his  subjects, 
an  intelligent  young  mechanic,  described  to  a  party 
of  half  a  dozen  gentlemen  the  vivid  reality  of  his 
sensations.  So  far  as  he  was  concerned,  there  was 
no  deception.  Another  gentleman  declared  that  the 
spirit  of  his  wife  had  answered  his  mental  inquirjT 
by  a  fact  unknown  to  him,  but  which  he  had  since 
learned  was  true.  Then  one  proposed  that  we  should 
all  go  and  have  a  private  exhibition,  which  the  show 
man  advertised  to  give.  We  went,  we  saw  the 
exhibition,  and  the  following  is  an  accurate  descrip 
tion  of  the  audience,  the  dramatis  personce,  and  the 
display. 

We  were  six  in  number:  two  doctors — one  very 
learned  in  the  Hebrew,  Arabic,  Greek,  and  Latin, 
as  well  as  the  modern  languages — two  lawyers,  a 
clergyman,  and  the  collector  of  the  port.  All  were 
educated,  intelligent  gentlemen. 

We  went  to  a  small  but  very  respectable  boarding- 
house,  rang,  and  asked  for  the  showman  by  name. 
We  were  shown  into  the  small,  plainly  furnished 
"  square"  room.  Soon  entered  a  girl  of  some  eighteen 
years,  having  every  mark  of  an  ignorant,  gawky, 
impudent  country  wench. 

"  Do  you  fellers  want  a  see-ants?"  she  demanded. 

We  had  agreed  that  Dr.  H.  should  be  our  speaker. 
"  We  would  like  to  see  whatever  there  is  to  be  seen," 
he  civilly  replied. 

"  Wall,  the  Perfessor  charges  a  half  a  dollar  a  head 
for  a  private  see-ants,"  she  said.  "  I'm  his  meejum." 

She  was  assured  that  the  entrance-fee  of  four  shil 
lings  each  should  be  forthcoming.  She  passed  into 
the  hall,  and  as  the  servant  expressed  her  reply  to 
her  mistress'  call  in  "A  New  Home,"  "we  thought 


HYPNOTISM -SPIRITUAL  AND  OTHER  ISMS.      75 

we  heard  a  yell. "  "  Perfessor, "  she  screamed,  "  here's 
six  gents  as  wants  a  see-ants,  right  off !" 

There  was  as  little  that  was  spiritual  in  the  ap 
pearance  of  the  Perfessor  as  in  his  "meejum."  He 
was  an  uneducated  man  who  had  acquired  some 
polish  by  contact  with  others.  He  entered,  collected 
his  half-dollar  from  each,  and  proceeded  to  business. 
A  circular  table  .stood  in  the  centre.  From  this  he 
removed  the  cover  and  placed  seven  chairs  around 
the  table.  Except  a  piano  with  no  cover,  the  room 
contained  no  other  furniture.  We  were  directed 
to  be  seated  and  "  jine  hands"  with  the  meejum. 

We  were  all  disgusted  with  the  absurdity  of  the 
performance,  when  the  medium  said  to  the  clergyman, 
who  sat  nearest  to  her:  "Naow  don't  you  tickle  my 
hand.  If  you  do  I  shall  giggle  right  out."  We 
were  indisposed  to  speech.  In  a  few  minutes  the 
girl  was  apparently  asleep.  The  showman  declared 
that  he  could  understand  anything  said  through  her 
by  the  spirits,  but  she  could  only  communicate  with 
a  stranger  by  raps  and  by  spelling  out  the  word. 
Thus  one  rap  meant  yes,  two  raps  no,  other  letters 
being  indicated  by  numbers  on  cards  which  were 
distributed  to  each  of  us.  This  apparently  slow 
method  was  used  by  the  medium  with  great  rapidity. 
The  raps  were  very  distinct  and  apparently  made 
all  over  the  room — on  and  under  the  table,  in  the 
lamp-shade,  on  the  back  of  a  chair,  and  in  other 
localities. 

"  I  will  now  put  the  medium  in  communication 
with  any  one  of  you,"  said  the  showman.  "  She  will 
summon  any  spirit  called  for.  The  spirit  will  not 
always  come,  and  some  that  come  will  not  answer." 

I  was  first  put  into  correspondence  with  her  by  tak- 


76  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

ing  both  her  hands,  and  the  showman  made  some 
passes  over  us.  This  done,  I  mentally  invited  the  spirit 
of  a  deceased  doctor  in  my  father's  family.  His  pres 
ence  was  announced  by  a  rap.  The  serious  part  of 
the  business  now  began.  I  asked  my  questions  in  an 
audible  voice. 

"  Are  you  a  spirit?"     Answer — "  Yes." 

"  Whose?"     Ans.— "  I  am  Dr.  Matthew  Cole." 

"Are  there  any  scars  upon  my  person?"  Ans. — 
"Yes.  Two." 

"Where?"  Ans. — "On  your  right  ankle  and  under 
your  left  arm." 

"What  caused  them?"  Ans. — "A cut  with  an  axe 
that  on  your  ankle ;  an  explosion  of  powder  that  un 
der  your  arm." 

There  was  not  a  person  in  the  room  but  myself 
who  could  have  known  these  facts.  The  answers 
were  perfectly  accurate.  Dr.  Cole  attended  me  when 
I  came  near  losing  my  life  in  my  boyhood  by  the  ex 
plosion  of  a  half-pound  paper  of  powder  ignited  in 
my  pocket  by  the  discharge  of  a  musket.  There  was 
no  fact  stated,  however,  which  I  did  not  know. 

The  clergyman  then  took  his  turn  and  was  put 
into  communication  with  the  spirit  of  his  deceased 
wife.  As  in  my  own  case,  questions  relating  to  his 
former  settlement,  residence,  marriage,  and  other 
events  were  correctly  answered.  The  clergyman 
then  asked  whether  he  had  had  any  differences  with  a 
member  of  his  former  congregation.  He  was  an 
swered  yes,  and  the  full  name  of  the  person  was 
given.  "  What  was  the  origin  of  it  ?"  "  An  unsigned 
letter  which  he  believed  was  written  by  you." 

The  clergyman  declared  that  he  never  knew  the 
origin  of  what  came  to  be  a  very  serious  trouble  to 


HYPNOTISM— SPIRITUAL  AND  OTHER  ISMS.      77 

him.  Now,  in  the  light  of  well-known  facts,  he  be 
lieved  the  answer  to  be  accurate. 

Our  learned  physician  now  called  for  the  spirit  of 
his  brother  and  he  came.  He  was,  when  he  died, 
professor  of  the  Hebrew  and  allied  languages  in  a 
German  university.  After  several  questions  had 
been  correctly  answered,  the  doctor  said :  "  Brother, 
it  would  give  me  great  joy  to  be  convinced  that  you 
are  my  brother.  Can  you  make  me  certain  of  your 
identity?" 

"I  will  try,"  was  the  response.  "I  will  translate 
for  you  from  the  German  into  the  Hebrew  tongue 
what  is  known  in  our  mother  tongue  as  the  first  verse 
of  the  34th  chapter  of  the  Second  Book  of  Moses.  It 
commences,  as  you  know,  'Und  der  Herr,  sprach  zu 

Mou '  "  "  Mein  Gott !"  interrupted  the  doctor. 

"  This  is  most  wonderful.  You  are  my  brother  or 
you  are  Satan.  Nothing  ever  happened  to  me  so 
extraordinary  as  this !" 

He  then  explained  that  his  brother  differed  from 
the  authorities  in  the  orthography  of  the  name  Moses. 
The  Germans  wrote  it  Mose;  the  French,  Moise  or 
Moyse.  His  brother  always  wrote  it  Mousse.  That 
thought  was  not  in  his  mind  when  he  asked  for  the 
proof.  It  was  natural  that  his  brother  should  have 
selected  it  to  prove  his  identity. 

We  asked  that  the  proposed  translation  be  made. 
The  doctor  assented  and  wrote  from  the  raps  the 
verse.  In  English  it  read  thus:  "And  the  Lord 
said  unto  Moses,  Hew  thee  two  tables  of  stone  like 
unto  the  first :  and  I  will  write  upon  these  tables  the 
words  that  were  in  the  first  tables,  which  thou  brak- 
est."  He  took  from  his  pocket  the  Hebrew  Penta 
teuch  and  compared  what  he  had  written  from  his 


78  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

brother's  dictation,  and  said  that  the  words  and 
characters  agreed.  None  of  us  were  Hebrew  scholars, 
but  we  were  none  the  less  certain  of  the  accuracy  of 
the  doctor's  statement . 

Striking  as  was  the  illustration,  it  only  served  to 
confirm  an  opinion  which  I  have  ever  since  enter 
tained.  In  attempting  to  carry  the  translations 
farther,  we  found  that  the  spirits  would  only  trans 
late  for  those  who  knew  both  tongues.  They  would 
translate  a  couplet  of  Virgil  into  French  or  English 
for  me,  but  failed  when  they  tried  the  Greek,  which 
I  did  not  understand.  The  trials  of  others  met  with 
the  same  fate.  No  one  but  the  doctor  could  extract 
from  the  spirits  a  translation  of  one  Hebrew  character. 

It  may  be  the  prevailing  opinion  that  this  incident 
is  scarcely  worth  the  space  given  to  it.  But  pray 
consider  the  spectacle:  A  coarse,  uneducated,  and 
very  common  country  girl,  under  the  direction  of  a 
common  showman,  translating  accurately  a  portion 
of  the  Hebrew  Bible  for  a  German  scholar.  It  was 
an  impressive  experience  to  me,  and  set  my  mind  at 
rest  on  some  subjects  which  have  much  disturbed 
others.  That  there  is  a  mysterious  process  by  which 
one  mind  operates  upon,  influences,  and  in  some  cases 
controls  another,  seems  to  be  incontrovertible.  That 
there  is  any  communication  between  the  spirits  of 
the  dead  and  the  living  there  is  not  the'  first  particle 
of  satisfactory  evidence. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"THE  BEAUTIFUL  AMERICAN  NUN." 

AT  the  close  of  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century  Vermont  was  an  isolated  province  on  the 
northern  border  of  the  spiritual  kingdom  of  the 
Catholic  bishop  of  Boston.  Too  remote  for  the  per 
sonal  supervision  of  that  prelate,  he  had  permitted 
the  Rev.  Jeremiah  O'Callaghan  to  control  it  for  so 
long  a  time  that  he  had  come  to  regard  his  authority 
as  equal  to  that  of  the  head  of  the  church.  The 
Reverend  Jeremiah  was  an  Irish  priest  of  peculiar 
opinions  never  entirely  in  harmony  with  Catholic 
principles.  On  account  of  these  he  had  been  com 
pelled  to  leave  Ireland  and  had  come  to  this  frontier, 
where  he  could  enforce  his  uncanonical  views  of 
usury,  banking,  pew-rent,  and  monopoly  without  in 
terference  from  any  superior  authority.  Catholicism 
had  flourished  under,  or  rather  in  defiance  of,  his 
rule;  many  new  churches  had  been  built,  much 
valuable  real  property  acquired,  the  deeds  to  which 
were  taken  to  "the  Reverend  Jeremiah  O'Callaghan 
and  his  assigns." 

The  new  congregations  were  formed  of  Canadian- 
French  and  Irish  Catholics  in  nearly  equal  numbers. 
All  were  good  Catholics,  but  in  temporal  matters  they 
were  as  discordant  as  the  poles  of  an  electric  battery. 
Their  united  action  in  a  congregation  would  have  been 
impracticable  under  the  most  judicious  management. 

79 


80  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

The  combative  disposition  of  the  Reverend  Jeremiah, 
who  usually  sided  with  his  count^men,  always  in 
tensified,  never  reconciled  these  differences,  until  they 
produced  numerous  actions  of  ejectment,  for  assaults, 
batteries,  and  other  proceedings  disreputable  to  the 
church  and  profitable  only  to  members  of  the  legal 
profession. 

These  controversies  increased  in  number  and  in 
tensity  until  a  very  quiet  and  unassuming  priest  ap 
peared  upon  the  scene.  This  was  the  Rev.  Louis  de 
Goesbriand,  who  brought  with  him  his  commission 
as  bishop  of  Vermont,  which  had  been  made  a  new 
Catholic  diocese.  He  was  a  French  Jesuit  who 
came  to  us  from  some  Western  city.  He  frequently 
consulted  Hon.  E.  J.  Phelps  and  myself  upon  the 
law  of  conveyances  and  the  methods  of  compromis 
ing  suits,  and  impressed  us  both  by  his  discretion 
and  his  skill  in  controlling  the  passions  of  angry 
men.  He  at  once  transferred  the  Reverend  Jeremiah 
O'Callaghan,  whose  combativeness  increased  with 
age,  to  a  church  in  the  beautiful  town  of  Northamp 
ton,  Massachusetts,  and  in  that  way  removed  the 
principal  cause  of  controversy.  He  separated  the 
Canadian-French  from  the  Irish,  and  impartially 
provided  each  with  churches,  schools,  and  pastors  of 
their  own  nationality.  In  a  few  months  every  Cath 
olic  lawsuit  had  been  settled,  the  titles  to  every 
parcel  of  church  property  had  been  brought  into  con 
formity  with  the  church  regulations,  and  peace  was 
restored  to  every  Catholic  congregation  in  the  new 
diocese. 

The  discretion  and  energy  of  the  bishop  com 
mended  him  to  the  respect  of  all  good  citizens.  He 
co-operated  with  the  local  authorities  in  good  works, 


"THE   BEAUTIFUL    AMERICAN    NUN."  81 

established  excellent  schools  and  gathered  into  them 
the  children  of  the  streets,  where  they  were  clothed, 
fed,  and  trained  to  respectability.  From  a  sand 
stone  which  up  to  that  time  had  been  unappreciated, 
he  built  a  cathedral  in  the  city  of  Burlington  which 
was  a  poem  in  stone,  and  which  has  come  to  be 
known  as  one  of  the  most  beautiful  structures  in  New 
England.  Notwithstanding  their  inherited  aversion 
to  the  Jesuits,  the  people  entertained  a  sincere  re 
spect  for  the  Catholic  bishop  of  Vermont,  and  his 
diocese  was  one  of  the  most  orderly  and  prosperous 
under  the  jurisdiction  of  Rome. 

On  a  visit  to  Burlington  after  an  absence  of  some 
years  I  called  upon  Bishop  de  Goesbriand  and  asked 
to  see  the  interior  of  his  cathedral.  He  assented  cor 
dially  to  rny  request  and  accompanied  me  to  the 
structure.  In  his  modest  way  he  was  pointing  out 
some  of  its  novelties,  when  I  noticed  a  group  of 
statuary  in  wood,  which  apparently  represented  some 
mythological  subject.  To  my  inquiry  what  it  was 
intended  to  represent,  he  answered  that  he  would  tell 
me  after  we  had  completed  our  inspection.  We 
visited  all  parts  of  the  cathedral  and  its  grounds, 
finally  came  to  his  residence,  and  entered  his  library. 
There  I  claimed  the  fulfilment  of  his  promise,  and 
there  he  told  me  the  story  of  the  "  Beautiful  American 
Nun."  All  its  details  connected  with  the  sisterhood 
he  gave  me.  Some  facts  of  the  early  life  of  the  prin 
cipal  character  were  derived  from  descendants  in  the 
family  to  which  she  belonged. 

"The  group  of  statuary  which  you  saw  in  the 
cathedral  is  an  attempt  to  commemorate  the  only  ac 
cepted  and  well-authenticated  miracle  ever  wrought 
within  the  limits  of  Vermont.  After  the  war  of  the 
6 


82  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

Revolution,  as  you  know,  General  Ethan  Allen  came 
to  reside  on  the  Winooski  intervale  in  this  town, 
where  he  lived  at  the  time  of  his  death.  His  dwell 
ing  was  a  farm-house  on  an  unfrequented  road,  and 
he  had  no  near  neighbors.  One  spring  morning 
when  his  daughter  Fanny,  aged  nine  years,  was 
gathering  wild -flowers  on  the  river's  bank,  she  was 
startled  by  the  sight  of  a  monster  which  was  rushing 
through  the  water,  apparently  to  devour  her.  Stricken 
with  fear,  she  was  unable  to  move  and  utterly  help 
less.  Just  as  the  savage  beast  was  about  to  tear  her 
with  his  ferocious  claws,  she  heard  a  kind  and  gentle 
voice  saying,  'Have  no  fear,  my  daughter,  the  mon 
ster  has  no  power  over  you. '  Trustfully  raising  her 
eyes,  she  saw  standing  by  her  side  an  aged  man  of 
venerable  aspect,  white  hair  and  beard,  wearing  a 
long  cloak  and  carrying  a  long  staff  in  his  hand. 
His  words  reassured  the  frightened  maid ;  her  fears 
departed  and  she  started  for  her  home.  There  she 
related  her  fearful  adventure  and  described  the  ap 
pearance  of  her  deliverer.  Her  father  and  mother 
immediately  went  in  search  of  him,  but  he  was 
neither  to  be  found  nor  heard  of.  No  one  had  seen 
him  along  the  road  where  he  must  have  passed ;  her 
parents  gave  up  the  search,  believing  that  their 
daughter  was  the  victim  of  her  own  imagination 
and  that  no  such  person  existed  as  she  believed  she 
had  seen.  The  incident  passed  from  their  minds  and 
was  for  the  time  forgotten. 

All  accounts  agree  upon  the  piety  and  loveliness  of 
the  daughters  of  Ethan  Allen.  It  was  of  Fanny 
Allen's  elder  half-sister  that  the  touching  story  is 
told  of  her  last  interview  with  her  unbelieving 
father.  The  rough  warrior  stood  by  her  bedside 


"THE    BEAUTIFUL   AMERICAN   NUN."  83 

holding  her  emaciated  hand.  'My  dear  father,'  she 
said,  'I  am  about  to  die;  shall  I  die  believing  with 
you  that  there  is  no  heaven,  no  Jesus,  no  future  life, 
or  shall  I  believe  what  my  mother  and  her  Bible 
have  taught  me?'  The  strong  man  wept  bitter  tears 
as  he  replied,  'My  child,  believe  what  your  mother 
has  taught  you. ' 

"  The  years  sped  on.  The  hero  of  Ticonderoga  was 
gathered  to  his  fathers,  and  his  lonely  wife,  after  a 
season  of  mourning,  sought  protection  and  comfort 
in  the  home  of  her  third  husband,  an  eminent  physi 
cian  of  an  adjoining  town.  Fanny  Allen  was  a 
beautiful  girl  of  seventeen  when  she  left  her  father's 
home  to  enter  upon  a  new  and  very  beautiful  life 
which  you  will  find  recorded  in  this  history." 

The  bishop  handed  me  two  royal  octavo  volumes 
in  French,  which  comprised  the  History  of  the  Hotel 
Dieu  convent  in  Montreal,  in  which  he  said  I  could 
read  the  subsequent  life  of  Fanny  Allen.  But  I  had 
been  so  charmed  with  his  simple  relation  that  I  in 
sisted  upon  hearing  the  account  from  his  own  lips. 
His  narrative  comprised  all  the  facts  described  in  the 
book.  From  that  relation  and  facts  derived  from 
other  authentic  sources  I  have  condensed  the  sequel 
of  the  story. 

The  remarkable  beauty  and  rare  intelligence  of 
Fanny  Allen  appear  in  every  account  of  her  which 
has  fallen  under  my  notice.  Her  mother,  whose 
name  she  bore,  a  widow  at  the  time  of  her  marriage 
with  Colonel  Allen,  is  described  as  a  lady  of  command 
ing  presence,  graceful  figure,  and  a  queenly  style  of 
beauty.  The  daughter  inherited  all  her  mother's 
gifts,  united  with  a  sweetness  of  disposition  and  a 
confiding  manner  which  charmed  every  one  who 


84  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

knew  her.  Before  her  sixteenth  birthday  she  had 
met  a  student  in  the  then  young  University  of  Ver 
mont.  H D was  the  son  of  a  wealthy 

Boston  merchant ;  he  lived  in  the  family  of  President 
Sanders,  a  friend  and  neighbor  of  Dr.  Penniman,  the 
step-father  of  Miss  Allen.  He  possessed  an  irre 
proachable  character  and  was  a  thorough  gentleman 
by  birth  and  education.  He  loved  Fanny  Allen  with 
all  the  devotion  of  a  brilliant  mind  and  a  pure  heart. 
She  gave  him  in  return  the  treasure  of  her  first  love. 
They  were  made  for  each  other.  The  parents  of 
both  approved  their  union.  For  nearly  a  year  they 

had  lived  for  and  loved  each  other.     D was  a 

welcome  guest  in  the  home  of  his  beloved,  and  both 
looked  somewhat  impatientty  forward  to  his  gradua 
tion,  when  they  were  to  be  married  and  he  was  to 
enter  his  father's  firm  in  Boston,  where  the  young 
couple  were  to  reside.  The  voluntary  withdrawal  of 
either  from  the  promise  of  such  a  future  seemed  im 
possible.  The  love  and  society  of  her  promised  hus 
band  were  completely  satisfying  to  Fanny  Allen. 
She  envied  no  one,  wanted  nothing  more.  The  year 
which  closed  on  her  eighteenth  birthday  was  a  year 
of  contentment  and  unalloyed  happiness. 

Miss  Allen  had  received  an  excellent  English 
education,  and  at  this  time  she  conceived  an  irresis 
tible  desire  to  acquire  the  French  language.  She 
had  never  experienced  it  before;  now  it  was  more 
powerful  than  her  love.  Her  mother  resisted  it  at 
first.  The  French  was  a  useless  accomplishment 
which,  before  the  days  of  railways,  ocean  steamers, 
and  European  travel,  formed  no  necessary  part  of 
the  education  of  a  young  American  lady.  The  long 
ing  of  Miss  Allen  increased  when  it  was  resisted. 


"THE    BEAUTIFUL    AMERICAN    NUN."  85 

She  became  despondent  and  melancholy;  her  face 
lost  its  fresh  color.  Her  friends  feared  she  was  go 
ing  into  a  decline. 

As  farther  resistance  promised  to  imperil  the 
health  and  possibly  the  life  of  his  adopted  daughter, 
her  step-father  yielded  and  her  mother  accompanied 
her  to  the  city  of  Montreal  in  search  of  a  school  in 
which  the  daughter  might  be  taught  the  French  lan 
guage.  Then,  as  now,  the  schools  in  the  convents 
bore  a  deservedly  high  reputation,  and  were  succes 
sively  visited  by  the  American  strangers.  Their 
final  visit  to  the  convents  was  to  the  celebrated  sister 
hood  known  as  the  Convent  "  Hotel  Dieu. "  They 
entered  its  chapel,  walked  up  one  of  the  aisles  until 
they  stood  before  a  large  painting  near  the  altar.  To 
the  mother's  amazement,  the  daughter  suddenly  fell 
upon  her  knees,  bowed  her  head  in  prayerful  adora 
tion,  and  pointing  to  a  figure  in  the  painting,  ex 
claimed  :  "  There  is  the  man  who  saved  me  from  the 
monster."  It  was  the  figure  of  the  venerable  Joseph, 
the  husband  of  the  Virgin,  in  a  large  painting  of  the 
Holy  Family. 

Believing  that  she  had  been  directed  hither  by  a 
divine  influence,  Miss  Allen  would  listen  to  no  sug 
gestion  of  farther  inquiry.  Her  mother  left  her  as  a 
scholar  in  charge  of  the  sisterhood  and  returned  to 
her  Vermont  home. 

A  new  life  now  began  for  Fanny  Allen.  Her  con 
duct  was  irreproachable.  She  made  rapid  progress 
in  her  studies,  but  they  assumed  a  minor  importance. 
She  was  powerfully  impressed  by  the  unselfish  piety 
of  the  sisters  who  had  withdrawn  from  the  world 
and  given  themselves  to  the  service  of  the  church  in 
the  conversion  of  the  unbelieving  and  incidentally  to 


80  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

works  of  mercy  and  charity.  She  determined  to  en 
ter  the  sisterhood  as  soon  as  her  season  of  probation 
was  ended.  The  grief  of  her  mother  over  this  deci 
sion  could  scarcely  have  been  more  poignant  over  her 
death. 

Her  mother,  her  friends,  and  her  lover  united  their 
efforts  to  dissuade  her  from  her  purpose.  In  the 
hope  of  diverting  her  mind  and  of  awakening  her 
interest  in  worldly  things,  she  was  taken  from  the 
convent  into  the  most  fashionable  circles  of  city  life, 
where  she  was  qualified  to  shine  and  where  she  at 
tracted  universal  admiration.  Her  affianced  lover, 
overwhelmed  with  grief,  made  to  her  the  most  tender 
and  pathetic  appeals.  He  painted  the  attractions  of 
the  social  life  which  opened  its  doors  to  welcome 
them.  He  would  give  her  comfort,  luxury,  position, 
everything  that  wealth  could  purchase  or  her  heart 
desire.  They  would  travel,  they  would  store  their 
minds  with  precious  memories  of  old  civilizations. 
Together  they  would  float  upon  Italian  lakes,  read 
great  poems  among  the  mountains  that  inspired  them. 
They  would  ascend  the  Nile,  study  the  beauties  of 
the  Alhambra,  and  read  the  story  of  the  cross  on  the 
shores  of  Galilee.  Would  she  become  a  minister  of 
charity?  His  fortune  was  hers  to  bestow.  All  he 
asked  was  that  he  might  work  beside  her,  sustain 
her  strength,  and  see  generations  rise  up  to  call  her 
blessed.  They  had  been,  they  might  be  so  happy  in 
each  other's  love !  He  prayed,  he  implored  her  not 
to  give  up  a  future  of  so  much  promise  for  the  re 
stricted  opportunities  and  prison  life  within  the  stony 
walls  of  a  convent  cell. 

But  Fanny  Allen  was  inflexible.  She  had  the 
energy,  decision,  and  firmness  of  her  father,  con- 


"THE    BEAUTIFUL    AMERICAN    NUN."  87 

trolled  by  the  gentleness  of  a  trustful  nature.  Noth 
ing  could  have  surpassed  the  sweetness  of  her  cheer 
ful  acquiescence  in  the  wish  of  her  mother  that  she 
should  enter  society.  There  she  seemed  to  exert 
herself  to  add  to  its  attractions.  She  was  very 
beautiful ;  above  the  medium  height,  her  complexion 
fair,  her  eyes  dark  blue  with  a  singular  calmness  and 
depth  of  expression,  united  to  a  regal  dignity  and  re 
pose  of  manner  which  made  her  attractions  irresistible 
while  they  indicated  the  refinement  and  loveliness  of 
her  character.  Nor  did  her  first  love  grow  cold. 
Her  lover  was  dearer  to  her  than  ever.  It  was  be 
cause  she  loved  him  so  well  that  she  was  constrained 
to  obey  the  call  of  One  through  whom  she  hoped  to 
secure  his  eternal  welfare. 

In  due  time  Miss  Allen,  confident  of  the  genuine 
ness  of  her  conversion  to  the  Catholic  faith,  returned 
to  the  convent  to  prepare  for  her  final  withdrawal  from 
the  world.  At  a  time  when  so  little  was  known  of 
Catholicism  in  Vermont,  this  announcement  created 
an  interest  and  excitement  which  the  present  genera 
tion  cannot  appreciate.  In  the  popular  ignorance  of 
the  time  "taking  the  veil,"  as  it  was  called,  was 
regarded  as  the  voluntary  suicide  of  the  novice, 
as  the  suppression,  if  not  the  destruction,  of  a  human 
soul.  The  ceremony  was  described  in  the  press.  The 
gloomy  half-light  of  the  chapel  filled  with  mourn 
ing  friends;  the  funereal  tones  of  the  organ;  the 
shaven  priests ;  the  angelic  beauty  of  the  novice  in 
her  dress  of  unstained  white;  the  saddened,  sweet 
resignation  of  her  face ;  the  grief  of  her  last  glance 
toward  those  from  whom  she  was  about  to  part  for 
ever;  the  final  scene  when,  in  the  dark  robe  of  her 
order,  she  fell  into  keeping  with  the  awful  ceremony ; 


88  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

the  fall  of  the  curtain  which  was  supposed  to  sepa 
rate  her  forever  from  all  she  held  dear,  was  thought 
to  represent  a  truthful  exhibition,  as  dreadful  and 
almost  as  cruel  as  the  nameless  ceremonies  of  the 
inquisition. 

But  if  the  information  of  Bishop  de  Goesbriand 
was  reliable,  the  blessings  which  followed  the  con 
secration  of  the  beautiful  novice  more  than  compen 
sated  every  one  for  their  sorrow  for  her  temporal  loss. 
She  immediately  became  one  of  the  celebrities  of  the 
city  of  Montreal.  Her  convent  was  no  longer  a 
place  of  seclusion.  It  was  besieged  by  throngs  of 
visitors  who  would  not  leave  the  city  until  they  had 
seen  "the  beautiful  American  nun."  Although  she 
brought  benefactions  to  the  convent,  these  numerous 
visitors  became  not  only  annoying  to  her,  but  she 
was  not  strong  enough  to  endure  the  fatigue  of  re 
ceiving  them.  Her  Mother  Superior  at  length  de 
cided  to  refuse  to  put  her  upon  exhibition,  and  she 
was  permitted  to  enjoy  a  season  of  seclusion. 

After  assuming  the  religious  habit  she  lived  only 
eleven  years,  and  came  to  the  end  of  her  beautiful  life 
at  the  age  of  thirty-five  years.  These  eleven  years 
witnessed  so  many  conversions  of  her  relatives  and 
acquaintances  to  the  Catholic  faith  as  to  establish  the 
miraculous  character  of  her  own  experience.  The 
physician  who  attended  her  last  hours,  a  Protestant, 
was  so  touched  by  her  faith  that  when  at  the  last 
moment  her  confessor  exclaimed,  "  Come  to  her  as 
sistance,  all  ye  saints  of  God,"  he  fell  upon  his  knees 
and  registered  a  solemn  purpose,  which  was  executed 
by  leaving  his  profession,  joining  the  church,  and 
entering  a  religious  community.  Her  intended  hus 
band  sold  what  he  had  and  gave  it  to  the  poor  and 


"THE   BEAUTIFUL    AMERICAN    NUN."  89 

himself  to  the  service  of  the  church.  The  Rev.  Mr. 
Barber,  who  gave  Miss  Allen  the  rite  of  baptism  into 
the  Episcopal  church,  at  the  age  of  sixty-two  years 
became  a  Catholic — his  son  and  his  grandson  became 
priests  of  the  Jesuit  order  and  missionaries  to  the  In 
dians.  Her  relatives  and  those  who  knew  her  well, 
almost  without  exception,  followed  her  example;  one 
of  them,  a  clergyman,  with  his  wife  were  separated 
by  a  papal  decree,  in  order  that  the  husband  might 
become  a  priest  and  his  wife  the  lady  superior  of  a 
convent  in  a  Southern  city.  The  incidents  of  her 
life  and  the  results  of  her  noble  influence  would  fill  a 
volume.  Indeed,  her  example  has  not  yet  lost  its 
power,  for  many  conversions  from  Protestantism  of 
her  posterity  continue  to  occur,  some  of  the  most 
conspicuous  under  the  ministry  of  the  present  bishop 
of  Vermont. 

"  You  do  not  believe  in  the  Vermont  miracle  or  in 
its  marvellous  consequences  and  conversions,  but  we 
do — we  believe  them  thoroughly,"  were  the  sincere 
and  artless  words  with  which  the  good  bishop  termi 
nated  our  interview  and  the  story  of  "  the  beautiful 
American  nun." 


CHAPTER    XI. 
SECRETARY  CHASE  AND  HIS  FINANCIAL  POLICY. 

IN  the  judgment  of  thoughtful  men,  the  Treasury 
was  the  weakest  portion  of  the  national  defences 
during  the  civil  war.  Of  the  courage  and  patriotism 
of  the  loyal  North  and  West  there  was  never  any 
doubt.  But  the  soldier  cannot  fight  upon  courage 
and  patriotism  alone.  He  must  be  clothed  and  fed, 
as  well  as  provided  with  arms  and  ammunition, 
and  these  cannot  be  furnished  when  the  money  and 
credit  of  the  Government  are  exhausted.  The  rebel 
armies  were  never  destitute  of  guns,  powder,  or  ball. 
England  and  some  of  the  Continental  powers  took 
good  care  of  them  in  this  respect.  But  toward  the 
close  of  the  war,  when  other  supplies  were  exhausted, 
the  military  strength  of  the  South  rapidly  weakened. 
Exposure  and  want  of  tents,  clothing,  and  proper  food 
were  as  damaging  to  the  South  as  any  powerful  rein 
forcement  of  the  Northern  armies. 

The  management  of  Secretary  Cobb  had  thoroughly 
depleted  the  Treasury :  he  had  spared  no  efforts  to 
accomplish  this  result.  On  the  4th  of  March,  1861, 
there  was  not  money  enough  left  in  its  vaults  to  pay 
for  the  daily  consumption  of  stationery;  no  city 
dealer  would  furnish  it  on  credit.  When  Secretary 
Chase  entered  upon  his  duties,  the  most  thorough 
search  was  made  to  find  something  that  could  be 
turned  into  money.  It  was  suggested  that  the  sur 
plus  revenue  which  had  been  loaned  to  the  States 
90 


SECRETARY  CHASE  AND  HIS  POLICY.  91 

might  be  collected.  But  of  the  obligations  for  its 
return  executed  by  the  slaveholding  States,  every  one 
had  mysteriously  disappeared,  and  that  subject  was 
laid  aside.  No  authority  for  the  issue  of  Treasury 
notes  existed ;  the  prospect  of  raising  money  was  as 
remote  as  could  be  imagined. 

The  last  Congress  had  authorized  a  small  loan,  at 
six  per  cent  interest,  payable  in  gold  coin.  Secretary 
Cobb  had  offered  it;  the  whole  amount  had  been 
taken,  the  subscribers  depositing  the  customary  one 
per  cent  as  a  guarantee  that  the  remaining  payments 
would  be  made.  The  Secretary  had  so  frequently 
and  so  confidently  predicted  the  dissolution  of  the 
Union,  and  that  the  loan  would  never  be  paid,  that 
some  of  the  subscribers  in  Washington  and  the  South 
declined  to  make  good  their  subscriptions  and  for 
feited  their  guarantee.  The  amount  not  taken  was 
about  $9,000,000.  This  amount  was  available  if 
subscribers  for  it  could  be  obtained. 

This  balance  was  accordingly  advertised  in  the 
usual  manner.  It  was  announced  that  on  an  ap 
pointed  day  proposals  for  it  would  be  received, 
opened,  and  considered  by  the  Secretary. 

When  the  day  arrived  there  were  so  few  offers  for 
it  that  the  Secretary  decided  to  postpone  opening  the 
bids  and  to  advertise  for  proposals  a  second  time. 
It  was  in  this  connection  that  I  first  heard  the  word 
"  syndicate "  in  relation  to  a  financial  transaction. 
Mr.  Jay  Cooke,  a  personal  friend  of  the  Secretary, 
came  to  Washington  from  Ohio,  and  proposed  that  all 
loyal  Republicans  should  form  "syndicates"  to  sub 
scribe  for  this  loan.  Such  syndicates  were  formed 
and  the  subscription  was  considerably  increased 
thereby. 


92  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

That  was  a  memorable  day  on  which  the  bids 
were  opened.  Three  persons  were  present:  the 
Secretary,  one  of  his  assistants,  and  the  Register. 
The  Assistant  Secretary  opened  and  read  the  bids — 
the  Register  recorded  them.  There  were  a  few  offers 
for  small  amounts,  as  high  as  ninety-five ;  the  offers 
of  the  syndicates  were  about  ninety.  Then  the  bids 
fell  off — some  of  them  were  as  low  as  forty.  Think 
of  it !  Four  hundred  dollars  offered  for  a  bond  of  the 
United  States,  at  six  per  cent  interest,  payable  in 
gold  coin,  for  one  thousand  dollars !  The  defeats  at 
Bull  Run  were  not  so  disheartening  to  the  Treasurj^ 
officers  who  comprehended  the  situation  as  the  sum 
ming  up  of  these  unpatriotic  offers. 

No  word  broke  the  silence  while  the  Register  was 
adding  up  and  averaging  the  offers.  When  this  was 
done  he  inquired : 

"Well,  what  is  to  be  done?" 

"Have  you  any  suggestion?"  asked  the  Secretary. 

"I  have,"  said  the  Register.  "A  little  money  we 
must  have.  There  are  between  three  and  four  mill 
ions  bid  for  at  eighty-five  and  above.  I  suggest  that 
these  offers  be  accepted." 

"Very  well,"  responded  the  Secretary.  "Let  the 
notices  be  given. " 

"But  what  then?"  pursued  the  Register.  "Our 
liabilities  are  accruing  at  the  rate  of  $2,000,000  daily. 
The  proceeds  of  this  loan  will  not  pay  them  for  more 
than  forty-eight  hours.  Is  the  Treasury  to  suspend 
payment?" 

The  Secretary  was  seated  at  the  table,  upon  which 
his  elbow  rested;  his  massive  head  was  supported 
upon  his  opened  palm.  His  countenance  wore  a  look 
of  weary  depression.  Suddenly  he  started,  raised 


SECRETARY  CHASE  AND  HIS  POLICY.  93 

his  head,  and  the  look  of  depression  was  followed  by 
one  of  determination,  almost  fierce  in  its  intensity. 

"  What  then?"  he  exclaimed,  "  is  a  serious  question. 
It  is  less  difficult  to  say  what  we  will  not  than  what 
we  will  do.  We  will  not  try  this  method  of  raising 
money  farther!  Let  this  loan  and  these  books  be 
closed !" 

At  this  point  he  rose  and  stood  upon  his  feet. 
Erect,  he  was  a  model  of  strength  and  dignity — the 
finest  man  in  carriage  and  appearance  in  the  nation. 
Scarcely  raising  his  voice,  the  words  fell  from  his 
lips  like  a  decree  from  the  throne  of  an  omnipotent 
monarch : 

"  There  is  money  enough  in  the  loyal  North  and 
West  to  pay  for  suppressing  this  wicked  rebellion. 
The  people  are  willing  to  loan  it  to  their  Government. 
If  we  cannot  find  the  way  to  their  hearts,  we  should 
resign  and  give  place  to  those  who  can.  I  am  going 
to  the  people !  If  there  is  a  farmer  at  the  country 
cross-roads  who  has  ten  dollars  which  he  is  willing 
to  loan  to  the  Government,  he  shall  be  furnished  with 
a  Treasury  obligation  for  it,  without  commission  or 
other  expense.  When  we  have  opened  the  way  di 
rectly  to  the  people  and  they  fail  to  respond  to  the 
calls  of  their  Government  in  the  stress  of  civil  war, 
we  may  begin  to  despair  of  the  republic!"  With 
these  words  ringing  in  our  ears,  the  conference  ended. 

This  expression  disclosed  the  source  of  the  financial 
strength  of  Secretary  Chase.  His  confidence  in  the 
people  was  absolutely  supreme ;  it  never  for  a  moment 
wavered.  He  saw  himself,  and  he  could  make 
others,  even  an  assembly  of  bank  presidents,  see  that 
their  possessions  were  worthless  unless  the  Treasury, 
a  synonym  in  his  mind  for  the  Government,  was 


94  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

sustained.  But  he  addressed  no  such  selfish  argu 
ments  to  the  masses.  They  knew  that  it  was  their 
duty  to  support  the  Government  with  their  lives — 
much  more  with  their  money.  The  plan  of  dealing 
with  them  directly  was  the  strongest  that  could  pos 
sibly  have  been  devised. 

Able  as  the  Secretary  was,  it  would  be  erroneous 
to  assume  that  his  financial  policy,  which  culminated 
in  "An  Act  to  Establish  a  National  Currency,"  was 
struck  out  at  a  sitting,  and  came  from  him  perfect, 
like  Minerva  from  the  front  of  Jove.  It  was  the 
subject  of  growth  and  development,  enlarging  with 
the  necessities  of  the  country  and  always  adequate 
to  its  relief.  A  rapid  sketch  of  this  growth,  as 
shown  by  the  successive  acts  of  Congress,  may  not 
here  be  out  of  place. 

The  extra  session  of  July  4th,  1861,  was  called  when 
there  was  in  the  Cabinet  more  than  one  believer  in 
the  suppression  of  the  rebellion  within  sixty  days. 
The  Secretary  was  confident  that  its  suppression 
would  not  involve  any  permanent  disturbance  of  the 
financial  institutions  or  systems  then  in  existence. 
Accordingly .  the  first  loan  act  of  July  17th,  1SG1, 
comprised  important  provisions,  which  were  never 
used  and  were  soon  abandoned. 

This  act  authorized  the  Secretary  to  borrow  not 
more  than  $250,000,000,  and  to  issue  bonds  bearing 
seven  per  cent  and  Treasury  notes  bearing  interest  at 
the  rate  of  seven  and  three-tenths  per  cent,  the  latter 
popularly  known  as  the  "  seven-thirty  notes. "  He 
was  authorized  to  issue  not  more  than  fifty  millions 
of  dollars  in  Treasury  notes,  bearing  no  interest  and 
payable  on  demand.  These  "demand  notes"  were 
made  receivable  for  all  public  dues,  including  duties 


SECRETARY  CHASE  AND  HIS  POLICY.  95 

on  imports,  and  were  convertible  into  other  notes 
bearing  interest  at  the  rate  of  3. 65  per  cent  per  annum. 
The  defeat  at  Bull  Run  on  the  21st  of  July  led  to  the 
passage  of  the  act  of  August  5th,  which  authorized 
the  conversion  of  the  "seven-thirties"  into  bonds 
bearing  six  per  cent  interest ;  another  act  of  the  same 
date  increasing  the  duties  on  imports,  and  another 
imposing  a  tax  upon  real  estate  and  incomes,  con 
stituted  the  financial  legislation  of  the  extra  session. 

The  "  demand  notes"  were  immediately  issued,  and 
there  were  small  issues  of  the  other  Treasury  notes  au 
thorized.  But  there  were  no  conversions  into  bonds 
under  these  acts.  The  second  or  December  session  of 
the  Thirty-seventh  Congress  was  approaching;  the 
necessity  for  an  increased  issue  of  notes  for  general 
circulation  became  apparent,  and  the  Secretary  turned 
his  attention  to  the  new  measures  demanded  by  these 
necessities. 

The  first  loan  act  of  the  December  session  pro 
vided  for  the  issue  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  millions 
in  non-interest-bearing  Treasury  notes,  constituting 
the  first  issue  of  those  popularly  known  as  "  green 
backs."  Fifty  millions  of  these  were  to  take  the 
place  of  the  "demand  notes,"  which  it  was  deter 
mined  should  be  withdrawn  from  circulation.  They 
were  receivable  for  customs  duties  and  took  the  place 
of  so  much  gold.  They  commanded  a  premium 
nearly  equal  to  that  of  gold.  The  new  issue  of 
$150,000,000  were  receivable  for  all  public  dues  ex 
cept  duties  on  imports.  This  act  authorized  the 
funding  of  all  outstanding  Treasury  notes,  together 
with  any  part  of  the  floating  debt,  into  six  per  cent 
bonds,  to  the  amount  of  $500,000,000,  bearing  six  per 
cent  interest,  redeemable  at  the  pleasure  of  the 


96  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

United  States  at  any  time  after  five  and  payable  in 
twenty  years.  These  were  the  well-known  "five- 
twenties"  of  1881.  The  act  of  March  1st,  1862,  au 
thorized  the  issue  of  certificates  of  indebtedness, 
payable  in  one  year,  with  six  per  cent  interest,  to 
any  public  creditor.  An  act  of  July  llth,  1862,  in 
creased  the  issue  of  greenbacks  $150,000,000,  making 
the  whole  issue  $300,000,000.  The  duties  on  im 
ports  were  again  increased.  The  internal  revenue 
system  was  created,  and  these  acts  comprised  the 
financial  legislation  of  the  Thirty-seventh  Congress. 

While  these  acts  created  a  large  additional  revenue 
and  increased  the  authorized  funding  of  the  debt  by 
nearly  eight  hundred  million  dollars,  they  were  ob 
viously  inadequate  to  the  necessities  of  the  situation. 
Secretary  Chase  foresaw,  before  the  Thirty-seventh 
Congress  closed,  that  the  Government  credit  could 
not  be  sustained  unless  more  thorough  and  permanent 
measures  were  adopted  which  should  close  the  State 
banks  and  create  a  national  currency  secured  by  the 
bonds  of  the  United  States.  He  was  aware  that  such 
a  measure  would  encounter  the  powerful  combined 
opposition  of  the  existing  banks ;  that  its  expediency 
would  be  questioned  and  its  necessity  denied.  But 
he  clearly  anticipated  its  beneficial  influence  upon 
the  country,  and  that  it  would  eventually  become  the 
crowning  glory  of  his  financial  administration.  He 
therefore  made  no  secret  of  its  purposes  and  proposed 
operation,  and  addressed  all  the  powers  of  his  mind 
to  its  perfection  and  passage. 

While  the  bill  was  before  the  House  of  Represen 
tatives,  Hon.  Brutus  J.  Clay,  a  loyal,  conservative 
member  of  the  House  from  Kentucky,  himself  a 
banker,  called  at  the  Treasury  to  show  the  Secretary 


SECRETARY  CHASE  AND  HIS  POLICY.  97 

that  he  ought  to  consent  to  a  reduction  of  the  pro 
posed  tax  upon  the  circulation  of  the  State  banks. 
He  argued  that  the  tax  was  greater  than  the  average 
profit  on  the  circulation,  and  demonstrated  that  the 
circulation  would  inevitably  be  withdrawn.  The 
Secretary  admitted  the  force  of  his  argument,  but 
declined  to  consent  to  any  reduction  of  the  tax.  Dis 
appointed  and  somewhat  irritated,  Mr.  Clay  ex 
claimed,  "  Why,  Mr.  Secretary,  you  act  as  if  it  were 
your  purpose  to  destroy  the  State  banks !"  "  My  own 
purpose  is  unimportant,  but  I  am  of  opinion  that  the 
act  justifies  your  criticism,  and  that  such  a  purpose 
ma}'  be  inferred  from  some  of  its  provisions,"  ob 
served  the  Secretary.  Mr.  Clay  was  almost  speech 
less  with  astonishment.  He  rose  from  his  seat,  clasped 
his  hands  above  his  head,  and  left  the  office,  exclaim 
ing,  "  My  God !  My  God !"  It  was  clear  to  the  Secretary 
that  the  two  systems  could  not  co-exist — that  one  or 
the  other  must  give  way.  Justice  to  Mr.  Clay  requires 
me  to  say  that  he  became  a  firm  supporter  of  the  bill. 

No  fewer  than  a  score  of  men  have  claimed  to  be 
the  originators  of  the  "  Act  to  Provide  for  a  National 
Currency."  The  list  comprises  bankers,  lawyers, 
gentlemen  of  leisure,  and  at  least  one  clergyman. 
Far  be  it  from  me  to  intimate  that  all  these  gentle 
men  are  not  entitled  to  all  the  laurels  they  claim.  I 
would  sooner  take  the  part  of  one  of  the  cities  claim 
ing  to  be  the  birthplace  of  Homer.  But  we  who  were 
in  the  Treasury  and  who  had  discussed  all  the  impor 
tant  clauses  with  the  Secretary  and  each  other  must 
be  excused  if  we  adhere  rather  firmly  to  the  opinion 
that  the  real  author  of  the  bill  was  Secretary  Chase. 

The  manner  in  which  the  important  sections  of 
this  bill  were  perfected  shows  the  great  ability  of 
7 


98  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

the  man  and  his  superiority  to  any  feeling  of  per 
sonal  jealousy.  There  is  no  doubt  whatever  that  he 
submitted  the  bill  to  every  person  he  knew  or  heard 
of  who  could  improve  it  by  his  criticisms  or  sug 
gestions.  Himself  one  of  the  best  lawyers  in  the 
nation,  whose  facility  of  expression  rendered  his 
business  letters  models  of  English  composition,  he 
would  not  trust  himself  to  perfect  this  bill.  After 
it  had  been  improved  as  much  as  possible  in  his  own 
department,  he  one  day  asked  the  head  of  one  of  his 
bureaus  who  was  the  best  lawyer  to  remove  from 
the  bill  all  the  clauses  of  doubtful  interpretation. 
The  name  of  an  eminent  Senator  was  suggested,  but 
it  was  mentioned  as  an  objection  to  him  that  his 
great  experience  was  associated  with  an  unyield 
ing  obstinacy  of  opinion,  that  his  views  of  "legal 
tender"  differed  from  those  of  the  Secretary,  that  he 
would  insist  upon  their  application  to  an  act  intended 
to  survive  all  military  necessities,  and  that  instead 
of  perfecting  the  bill  he  would  eliminate  from  it 
everything  which  did  not  conform  to  his  views. 
Judge  Collamer  was  well  known  to  the  Secretary. 
He  recognized  his  fitness  for  the  work,  declined  to 
listen  to  the  objections,  but  invited  him  to  the  Treas 
ury,  where  he  spent  several  weeks  in  close,  intel 
ligent,  and  most  judicious  labor  upon  the  bank  act. 
Judge  Collamer  might  well  claim  the  authorship  of 
many  of  its  provisions.  But  it  never  occurred  to  him 
nor  to  any  officer  of  the  Treasury  to  attribute  the  origin 
of  this  bill  to  any  other  than  Secretary  Chase.  The 
removal  of  the  prejudices  of  the  bankers,  their  ac 
ceptance  of  and  their  organization  under  it,  was 
largely  the  work  of  Hon.  Hugh  McCulloch,  the  first 
Comptroller  of  the  Currency. 


SECRETARY  CHASE  AND  HIS  POLICY.  99 

Considerable  time  elapsed  after  the  passage  of  the 
"Act  to  Provide  a  National  Currency"  before  the 
first  national  bank  under  its  provisions  was  organ 
ized.  The  officers  of  the  State  banks,  who  had 
generally  managed  them  with  safety  to  the  public 
and  credit  to  themselves,  were  naturally  averse  to 
any  change  and  unwilling  to  concede  that  any  bet 
ter  system  could  be  devised,  especially  by  a  Secretary 
who,  although  he  had  established  his  reputation  as  a 
great  financier,  had  no  experience  in  the  practical 
business  of  banking.  The  bank  presidents  of  the 
principal  cities,  in  making  previous  loans  to  the  Gov 
ernment,  had  become  accustomed  to  act  together,  and 
there  was  some  evidence  of  an  organized  resistance 
on  their  part  to  the  national-bank  act.  They  did  not 
believe  it  could  be  set  in  motion  without  their  co 
operation. 

In  this  opinion  they  were  mistaken.  The  first  im 
pulse  was  given  to  the  new  system  by  a  New  Yorker 
who  was  quite  outside  their  powerful  financial  circle. 
The  "  First  National  Bank"  was  organized  by  Mr. 
John  Thompson.  It  had  a  moderate  capital  and  no 
business  except  such  as  itself  created.  It  was  by  the 
act  entitled  to  become  one  of  the  depositories  of  the 
Treasury  moneys,  and  to  other  privileges  having  a 
pecuniary  value,  from  which  the  State  banks  were 
excluded.  These  advantages  immediately  demon 
strated  that  banking  under  the  national  act  might  be 
made  very  profitable,  and  resistance  to  it  on  the 
ground  .of  prejudice  could  not  long  be  maintained 
when  it  involved  a  pecuniary  loss.  The  alternative 
was  presented  to  the  bank  officers  of  banking  under 
the  old  system  at  a  loss  or  under  the  new  at  a  profit. 
Their  prejudices  began  to  give  way,  and  as  soon  as 


100  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

one  or  two  of  the  State  banks  had  decided  to  make 
the  change,  all  the  others  were  so  ready  to  follow 
that  it  was  simply  a  question  which  could  get  into 
the  national  system  first.  In  a  few  weeks  opposition 
to  it  from  the  old  banks  had  disappeared. 

The  wise  and  conservative  administration  of  the 
act  by  Mr.  McCulloch,  the  first  Comptroller  of  the 
Currency,  was  most  efficient  in  removing  all  objec 
tions  of  the  State-bank  officers;  and  the  readiness 
with  which  Secretary  Chase  accepted  suggestions 
for  amendments  made  friends  of  many  who  would 
otherwise  have  been  its  enemies.  It  was  at  first  in 
tended  that  the  national  banks  should  be  numbered 
consecutively  in  order  of  their  organization,  and  that 
the  former  names  of  the  State  banks  should  be  wholly 
suppressed.  The  suggestion  that  these  banks  should 
be  permitted  to  retain  the  old  and  honorable  titles 
was  made  by  Mr.  Patterson,  one  of  the  oldest  and 
most  experienced  bank  presidents  of  Philadelphia. 
The  value  of  this  suggestion  was  immediately  recog 
nized  by  the  Secretary  and  the  Comptroller,  and  it  was 
adopted.  Its  effect  was  equivalent  to  a  retention  by 
the  old  banks  of  the  "  trade-marks"  of  their  business. 
Thus,  for  example,  the  "Chemical  Bank,"  which 
would  have  become  possibly  the  "  Nine  hundred  and 
seventh  National  Bank,"  under  Mr.  Patterson's  sug 
gestion  became  the  "  Chemical  National  Bank."  The 
change  was  so  slight  that  it  preserved  whatever  of  ad 
vantage  was  associated  with  an  old  and  honorable 
name.  The  influence  of  this  change  was  very  great ; 
in  fact,  it  seemed  to  remove  the  last  prejudice  against 
the  national  system,  which,  tested  by  an  experience  of 
twenty-five  years,  has  proved  to  be  the  best,  safest,  and 
most  satisfactory  known  to  the  history  of  banking. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

SOME  NOTES  ABOUT  BIRDS — A  LESSON  IN  EN 
GINEERING. 

I  HOPE  no  reader  will  turn  away  contemptuously 
from  this  chapter  because  he  assumes  that  the  subject 
is  unworthy  of  men  who  have  to  deal  with  the  seri 
ous  concerns  of  life.  I  have  never  had  much  time  to 
throw  away,  but  I  have  spent  a  good  many  days 
with  our  common  birds,  and  a  much  larger  number 
with  men,  infinitely  less  to  my  profit  and  pleasure. 

If  he  hopes  to  gain  the  confidence  of  the  public,  no 
writer  of  political  literature  should  fail  to  acquaint 
himself  with  the  elements  of  natural  history.  I 
have  in  mind  a  very  delightful  author,  eminent  as  a 
poet,  a  statesman,  a  diplomatist,  and  a  historian,  yet 
because  of  his  gross  perversion  of  ornithological  facts 
I  cannot  read  anything  that  he  has  written  with  any 
pleasure  or  give  credit  to  facts  upon  his  unconfirmed 
evidence.  One  who  describes  humming-birds  per 
ishing  in  a  snow-storm,  the  robins  pairing  in  mid 
winter,  the  crows  nesting  in  the  evergreens  around 
his  garden,  will  never  gain  the  confidence  of  the  nat 
uralist.  When  he  affirms  that  the  blue-jays  unravelled 
an  old  carpet  for  the  materials  for  their  nest  built  in 
his  fruit-trees,  and  that  the  parent  birds  looked  on 
with  silent  admiration  while  he  amputated  the  limb 
of  one  of  their  young,  broken  by  being  entangled  in 
one  of  the  strings  woven  into  their  nest,  he  taxes  our 

101 


102  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

credulity  quite  as  heavily  as  old  Sir  John  Maunde- 
ville  when  he  declares  that  "  the  Ravenes  and  Crowes, 
everyche  of  hem  bringethe  in  here  bekes  a  braunche 
of  olive,  of  the  whiche  the  monkes  maken  gret  plentee 
of  Oyle  to  feed  the  lampes  in  the  Chirche  of  Seynte 
Kateryne,"  a  fact  which  he  solemnly  declares  is  "the 
myracle  of  God  and  a  gret  marvaylle."  The  hum 
ming-bird  never  comes  to  us  until  the  honeysuckle  is 
in  flower,  the  male  robin  precedes  the  female  by  some 
weeks  in  its  spring  migration,  and  every  tyro  knows 
that  in  New  England  the  corvidce  are  the  most 
secretive  of  birds  in  their  nesting  and  incubation. 
The  nest  of  the  common  crow,  always  in  the  thick 
boughs  of  the  lofty  pine  or  hemlock,  is  seldom  found 
until  it  is  betrayed  by  the  hoarse  cawing  of  the  young ; 
the  egg  of  that  very  common  bird,  the  Canada  jay, 
was  unknown  to  science  until  1859,  and  no  nest  of  a 
New  England  bird  is  more  difficult  of  discovery  than 
that  of  the  blue-jay.  It  is  to  be  found  only  in  some 
ravine  in  the  depths  of  the  forest  where  the  thick  tops 
of  the  evergreens  effectually  screen  it  from  human 
observation.  When  found,  like  all  the  nests  of  the 
genus,  it  is  formed  exclusively  of  dried  twigs,  with 
no  spear  of  grass  or  anything  but  woody  roots  and 
twigs  in  its  construction.  No  improbability  could 
surpass  the  story  of  the  young  jay  losing  its  leg  by 
becoming  entangled  in  a  string,  except  that  of  the 
nest  being  made  from  the  ravellings  of  an  old  carpet 
hanging  in  a  flower-garden ! 

The  blue-jay  is  one  of  those  birds  that  change  their 

habits  with  their  locality.      In  New  England  they 

are  never  seen  in  flocks  and  seldom  more  than  a  pair 

are  seen   together.     In  the  Southern  States,  where 

.  they  winter,  they  collect  in  flocks,  and  their  watch- 


SOME  NOTES  ABOUT  BIRDS.  103 

fulness  for  every  grain  of  rice  or  corn  makes  them 
the  pest  of  the  plantation.  Those  which  remain 
there  do  not  lose  their  attachment  for  human  society, 
and  are  said  to  nest  and  rear  their  young  near  the 
houses  of  the  planters. 

Do  the  birds  reason?  Do  they  know  when  it  is 
necessary  to  protect  themselves  and  their  young 
against  man  and  the  'lower  animals  and  when  it  is 
not?  I  will  not  attempt  a  comprehensive  answer  to 
these  questions.  I  will  state  some  facts  which  will 
be  interesting,  and  I  know  that  they  are  credible. 

The  crows  are  a  knowing  family.  They  com 
prise  the  ravens,  the  magpies,  the  common  crows, 
and  the  jays.  The  raven  lives  in  the  depths  of  the 
forest  or  on  the  shores  of  our  solitary  lakes  in  the  si 
lent  wilderness.  Why  men  pursue  him  to  death  it  is 
bootless  to  inquire.  Under  no  circumstances  does 
he  ever  cultivate  or  injure  human  society.  The 
crow  is  a  very  common  bird  and  is,  as  his  wants  de 
mand,  a  pest  and  a  blessing.  In  the  winter  of  1862, 
when  in  the  vicinity  of  Washington  the  unaccli- 
mated  horses  and  cattle  died  by  thousands,  I  used  to 
welcome  the  mighty  army  of  black- winged  scaven 
gers  that  devoured  the  carrion  and  protected  us 
against  epidemics.  But  every  New  England  farmer's 
boy  knows  what  a  pest  they  are  to  the  newly  planted 
corn-fields  and  has  had  some  opportunity  to  study 
their  predatory  habits.  They  never  raid  the  sprout 
ing  grains  without  first  placing  on  the  lookout  an  ex 
perienced  veteran,  who  never  fails  to  give  loud  warn 
ing  of  the  approach  of  any  danger.  If  the  farmer 
is  unarmed  and  the  crows  are  hungry,  he  may 
approach  within  a  very  few  yards  before  they  take 
flight.  But  let  him  bear  upon  his  shoulder  an  old 


104  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

Springfield  musket  or  other  fire-arm  not  dangerous 
to  be  handled,  and  the  alert  sentinel  will  not  suffer 
him  to  come  within  a  fourth  of  a  mile  of  one  of  his 
family.  Their  affection  for  their  young  alone  ren 
ders  them  insensible  to  danger.  Capture  a  young 
crow  and  make  him  cry  out,  and  every  other  one 
within  hearing  will  come  to  his  assistance.  The 
sport  of  shooting  them  under  these  circumstances 
was  always  too  cruel  for  me  to  engage  in,  even 
against  such  a  notorious  marauder. 

The  blue- jay  is  as  knowing  a  bird  as  his  congeners, 
the  magpie  and  the  crow.  In  the  Southern  States,  as 
I  have  said,  he  lives  in  flocks  near  human  dwellings. 
In  the  Middle  States  he  is  more  retiring  and  not 
inclined  to  human  society.  In  New  England  he  is  a 
solitary  bird,  and  in  pairs  seeks  the  depths  of  the 
forest,  where  he  is  as  difficult  of  approach  as  the 
common  crow.  He  is  omnivorous  and  savage  enough 
to  attack  and  destroy  a  wounded  bird  or  animal 
much  larger  than  himself ;  he  can  make  his  neigh 
borhood  very  uncomfortable  for  the  smaller  preda- 
ceous  animals. 

Wilson,  one  of  the  most  delightful  of  writers,  com 
mences  his  ornithology  with  a  sketch  of  the  habits  of 
the  blue-jay.  I  will  add  to  his  most  entertaining 
account  a  few  observations  of  my  own.  There  was 
upon  our  homestead  farm  an  extensive  wood  of  the 
first  growth.  There  were  hills  covered  with  pines, 
hemlocks,  and  other  evergreens,  plains  of  sugar- 
maples  and  beeches,  and  on  its  three  hundred  or 
more  acres  grew  almost  every  New  England  tree  and 
shrub.  The  crows  and  jays  nested  in  the  evergreens, 
the  myrtle-bird  and  thrushes  in  the  groves  of  decid 
uous  trees,  and  many  species  of  natural  enemies 


SOME  NOTES  ABOUT  BIRDS.  105 

seemed  to  live  together  as  a  happy  family.  On  one 
occasion  I  noticed  a  pair  of  jays  screaming  in  imita 
tion  of  a  sparrow-hawk,  with  butcher-birds  and  sev 
eral  other  species,  all  pursuing  some  animal  running 
on  the  ground  in  the  edge  of  a  cleared  field.  A  hawk 
made  a  descent,  as  I  supposed,  to  strike  one  of  the 
birds,  but  when  he  rose  in  a  graceful  curve  I  saw 
writhing  in  his  talons  the  weasel  which  the  birds 
had  been  pursuing.  Later  I  saw  an  owl  and  finally 
a  mother  fox  pursued  by  the  same  winged  hunters. 
I  could  not  avoid  the  conclusion  that  these  birds  of 
different  species,  so  unlike  each  other,  had  banded  to 
gether  for  their  mutual  defence,  which  they  were 
successfully  maintaining.  Although  I  was  unable 
to  discover  the  nest,  the  young  family  of  jays  in  due 
time  appeared  and  grew  to  maturity. 

The  ruffed  grouse,  or,  as  it  is  commonly  known  in 
New  England,  the  partridge,  sometimes  exhibited 
an  intelligence  almost  and  a  pride  more  than  human. 
In  the  wood  I  have  mentioned  there  was  a  fallen 
tree,  and  I  had  discovered  an  opening  through  the 
branches  where  its  whole  length  was  visible.  This 
fallen  tree  was  the  throne  of  one  of  the  proudest  birds 
that  ever  existed — the  drumming-log  of  Mr.  Tetrao 
Umbellus.  With  his  tail,  marked  with  transverse 
bars  of  black,  expanded,  his  wings  drooping,  the  tufts 
on  his  neck  elevated,  he  marched  along  his  log  as 
stately  as  a  male  turkey,  a  peacock,  or  a  drum-major. 
At  the  end  he  turned  about  and  struck  his  stiffened 
wings  together  over  his  back,  slowly  at  first,  the 
strokes  increasing  in  rapidity  until  they  ran  together, 
producing  that  drumming  sound  which  so  frequently 
attracts  the  pot-hunter  and  costs  the  musician  its  life. 
I  watched  this  exhibition  for  hours,  his  performance 


106  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

being  varied  at  times  by  affectionate  endearments  to 
the  female  under  the  log,  where,  with  wings  greatly 
expanded  so  as  to  cover  a  score  of  eggs,  Mrs. 
Tetrao  patiently  incubated.  Without  disturbing, 
I  watched  her  closely  until  she  left  the  nest  and,  with 
soft  duckings,  kept  her  peeping,  fuzzy  young  ones 
within  the  shadow  of  her  maternal  wings.  Then  I 
thought  it  would  be  interesting  to  capture  two  or 
three  of  the  young.  I  may  tax  the  reader's  credulity, 
but  I  must  ask  him  to  believe  this  story.  There  was 
an  open  wood-road  leading  away  from  the  log.  All 
else  was  a  thicket.  The  moment  I  appeared  near  the 
log  the  mother  limped  a  few  yards  down  this  open 
road,  and  then,  with  drooping  wings,  fell  apparently 
helpless  on  the  ground.  I  ran  to  pick  her  up;  she 
rolled  over  and  over  several  times,  always  just  be 
yond  my  reach.  I  continued  the  pursuit  a  dozen 
yards  or  more,  when  she  deliberately  rose  from  her 
helpless  condition  on  the  ground  and  gracefully  sailed 
away  into  the  forest.  I  hurried  back  to  the  aban 
doned  nest,  but  no  young  one  was  to  be  found. 
They  too  had  betaken  themselves  to  the  covert,  with 
sense  enough  not  to  betray  themselves  by  a  sound. 
If  this  was  not  the  act  of  a  reasoning  mother  to  pro 
tect  her  young  by  drawing  me  away  from  them,  it 
was  certainly  an  excellent  imitation  of  the  reasoning 
faculty. 

The  blooded  setter  readily  follows  the  game-bird  by 
its  scent,  as  every  true  sportsman  knows.  Has  the 
bird  the  power  of  withholding  or  suppressing  its 
scent?  I  will  answer  by  an  experience  of  my  own,  to 
which,  if  required,  I  could  call  a  living  witness. 

We  were  shooting  over  "Bang,"  an  Irish  setter 
with  as  fine  a  nose  as  was  ever  carried  by  any  animal 


SOME  NOTES  ABOUT  BIRDS.  107 

with  four  or  a  less  number  of  feet.  It  was  a  morning 
for  English  snipe.  We  had  picked  up  a  few  individ 
uals,  one  at  a  time,  when  we  reached  a  narrow  marsh 
near  the  mouth  of  the  Winooski  River,  where,  if 
anywhere,  scolopax  gallinago  was  to  be  found.  At 
the  lower  end  we  sent  in  the  dog  and  followed  within 
shot.  I  firmly  believe  the  dog  quartered  every  square 
yard  of  that  ground  without  finding  a  trace  of  a  bird. 
We  were  about  leaving  it,  when  at  the  extreme  up 
per  end  the  dog  turned  in  the  opposite  direction  and 
immediately  flushed  three  birds.  Two  of  them  fell, 
but  the  third  was  missed.  Instead  of  moving  off  in 
his  usual  zig-zag  flight  and  alighting,  he  ascended 
in  a  circular  movement,  uttering  his  feeble  squeak. 
Before  we  had  charged  our  muzzle-loaders  the  snipe 
began  to  spring  up  from  the  very  ground  over  which 
we  had  walked,  moving  in  similar  circles  until  there 
were  as  many  as  a  dozen  in  the  air.  We  brought 
down  two,  when  the  others  at  a  lofty  elevation  started 
southward,  and  gathering  in  a  flock  disappeared  from 
our  sight.  Not  a  bird  was  left  on  the  marsh.  If 
these  birds  did  not  suppress  their  scent,  how  did  it 
happen  that  the  dog  passed  them  until  he  turned  to 
hunt  in  the  opposite  direction? 

Where,  tell  me  where,  has  columba  migrateria 
gone?  I  have  no  need  to  describe  the  immense  flights 
of  passenger-pigeons  which  darkened  the  sky  and 
made  a  sound  of  thunder  in  Kentucky  and  Ohio,  one  of 
them  estimated  by  Mr.  Audubon  to  comprise  one  bill 
ion  one  hundred  and  fifteen  rhillion  individuals.  In 
my  boyhood  they  nested  in  the  second  growth  of  pines 
near  our  homestead,  where  I  have '  picked  up  of  a 
morning  as  many  fat  squabs  as  I  could  carry.  We 
had  to  watch  closely  to  protect  the  ripening  fields  of 


108  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

wheat  and  rye  from  their  depredations.  There  was 
no  other  species  of  bird  half  so  numerous. 

I  speak  of  them  here  to  record  an  incident.  In 
1890  I  was  driving  with  a  friend  near  Burlington,  Vt. 
Our  conversation  was  of  the  passenger-pigeon,  and 
he  had  just  informed  me  that  he  had  not  met  with 
an  individual  in  several  years.  We  were  then  pass 
ing  a  field  from  which  the  crop  of  buckwheat  had 
just  been  harvested.  I  observed  to  him  that  thirty 
years  before  I  had  killed  pigeons  on  that  field — many 
of  them;  that  they  were  numerous  there  after  the 
crops  were  harvested  and  were  careful  gleaners.  My 
friend  was  telling  me  how  complete  their  disappear 
ance  was  over  all  our  hunting-grounds  of  thirty  years 
before,  when  six  birds  of  the  species  alighted  on  a 
dead  tree  in  the  middle  of  the  field!  Three  were 
males  with  the  lively  red  color  on  their  breasts  and 
the  long  pointed  tail  and  upper  parts  of  cerulean  hue 
which  always  made  them  so  graceful  and  attractive. 
They  were  almost  the  last  of  their  race  in  New 
England. 

It  was  the  opinion  of  that  veteran  observer,  Mr. 
•Audubon,  that  the  passenger-pigeon  was  capable  of  a 
sustained  flight  of  several  hours  at  the  rate  of  a  mile 
per  minute.  Of  our  American  birds,  only  the  swal 
low  family  have  been  endowed  with  greater  activity 
and  rapidity.  I  know  of  no  living  creature  which 
either  of  our  genuine  swallows  cannot  give  time  to 
and  defeat  in  a  race.  For  two  or  three  spring  days 
in  each  year  there  is  an  exhibition  of  the  poetry  of 
flight  over  the  surface  of  either  of  the  lakes  in  the 
New  York  Central  Park.  It  is  given  by  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  members  of  the  family — the  green- 
blue  or  white-bellied  swallow.  They  have  been 


SOME  NOTES  ABOUT  BIRDS.  109 

mated  and  are  on  their  bridal  journey.  The  insect 
life  on  these  lakes  is  attractive  to  them,  but  they  rest 
and  recruit  here  for  two  or  three  days  only.  In  the 
early  morning  there  will  be  some  thousands  where 
there  were  none  the  preceding  sunset.  Always  ap 
parently  on  the  wing,  describing  all  manner  of 
circles,  curves,  straight  and  irregular  lines,  yet  never 
colliding  with  each  other  or  with  any  stationary  ob 
ject,  when  or  where  they  sleep  I  cannot  tell,  for  I 
have  never  seen  one  at  rest.  The  males  are  quarrel 
some  and  fight  battles  in  the  air.  Suddenly  a  com 
mon  impulse  seizes  them — they  disappear,  not  to  be 
seen  again  until  another  spring. 

The  habits  of  the  barn  swallow  have  given  to 
that  common  summer  visitant  a  singular  reputation 
among  the  unlearned.  They  come  and  go  so  sud 
denly,  with  no  advance  agent  or  stragglers,  that  they 
are  by  many  supposed  to  betake  themselves  to  the 
soft  mud  in  the  bottom  of  the  ponds,  where  they 
hibernate  until  their  reappearance  in  new  and  glossy 
plumage  in  the  spring.  Like  some  half -human  ani 
mals,  they  prefer  to  sleep  closely  packed  together  in  a 
lodging-house.  All  the  swallows  in  the  locality  hang 
themselves  up  in  the  inside  of  a  hollow  tree  for  their 
night's  repose.  After  serving  as  the  lodging  of 
many  generations  the  tree  is  cut  down  or  falls,  dis 
closing  a  mass  of  feathers  and  exuvia3,  with  a  few 
skeletons  of  birds  that  lost  their  lives  there. 
Straightway  it  is  announced  that  the  place  where 
the  swallows  winter  has  been  discovered  and  de 
stroyed. 

An  incident  in  my  own  experience  illustrates  the 
very  social  habits  of  this  graceful  bird.  I  had  had 
excellent  sport  with  that  noble  game  fighter,  the 


110  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

black  bass,  around  a  small  island  of  a  few  acres  in 
Lake  Champlaiii,  east  of  Grand  Isle,  and  determined 
to  put  up  my  tent  and  pass  the  night  there.  Except 
a  few  open  spaces  covered  by  a  soft  moss  more  than 
twelve  inches  thick,  the  surface  was  covered  with 
red  cedars,  none  more  than  a  dozen  feet  in  height, 
with  lateral  branches  so  interlaced  that  it  was  diffi 
cult  to  move  among  them.  There  was  not  apparently 
any  animal  or  bird  to  be  seen. 

As  the  sun  approached  the  horizon  a  few  swallows 
came  and  alighted  in  the  cedar  branches,  then  more 
swallows,  and  still  more  until  flocks  of  many  hun 
dred,  coming  from  every  point  of  the  compass,  were 
converging  upon  the  island.  They  kept  coming 
while  the  daylight  faded  into  darkness.  Their  noisy 
chattering  increased  with  every  fresh  arrival.  I 
fancied  that  those  who  retired  early  and  were  com 
fortably  settled  for  the  night  .objected  to  being 
crowded  upon  their  branches  by  the  late  arrivals. 
My  supper  was  prepared  and  served  to  the  accom 
paniment  of  innumerable  angry  but  musical  voices. 

After  some  time  the  disputes  appeared  to  be  ad 
justed  and  there  was  a  profound  quiet,  only  broken 
here  and  there  by  some  individual  apparently  talking 
in  his  sleep  or  disturbed  by  the  nightmare.  Then, 
making  as  little  disturbance  as  possible,  I  forced 
myself  under  the  branches,  well  into  the  grove,  dis 
turbing  many  sleepers  in  my  progress.  I  felt  that 
I  was  surrounded  by  life.  Raising  my  hand  to  a 
branch,  I  discovered  that  the  swallows  were  literally 
packed  along  it  side  by  side.  By  striking  successive 
matches  I  saw  that  every  branch  in  view  was  laden 
in  the  same  manner.  The  light  seemed  to  awaken 
them  for  a  moment,  but  they  fell  asleep  again  as 


SOME  NOTES  ABOUT  BIRDS.  Ill 

soon  as  it  was  extinguished.  I  could  have  captured 
scores  within  reach  of  my  hand,  but  I  would  not  dis 
turb  these  innocent  creatures  which  had  selected  for 
their  nightly  repose  what  they  supposed  to  be  the 
security  of  an  uninhabited  island. 

As  the  gray  dawn  was  creeping  over  the  eastern 
mountains  there  was  a  clear-ringing,  silvery  note 
from  one  of  the  tallest  cedars  in  the  grove.  It  was 
the  reveille.  There  was  an  answering  note,  then 
another,  then  many,  and  in  a  minute  the  grove  was 
alive  with  voices.  They  were  not  the  weary,  com 
plaining  notes  of  the  evening,  but  they  were  full  of 
life  and  animation.  There  had  been  disputes,  now 
there  were  voices  in  council.  They  were  not  pro 
tracted.  As  the  first  rays  of  the  morning  leaped  sky 
ward,  touching  the  rock  face  of  Mansfield  with  their 
golden  splendor,  a  single  swallow  shot  out  from  the 
grove  and  made  one  circuit  sounding  its  call.  Others 
followed  until  a  small  flock  Was  collected,  which 
moved  westward  over  ten  miles  of  water  to  the  shore. 
Others  followed,  collecting  in  separate  flocks  and 
taking  flight  in  different  directions.  Within  five 
minutes  the  last  swallow  had  departed  and  solitude 
reigned  in  the  island. 

There  are  mechanical  engineers  among  the  birds, 
and  one  of  the  most  practical  is  a  member  of  the 
swallow  family,  as  the  following  incident  will  prove. 
Between  the  Winooski  Valley  and  Lake  Champlain, 
north  of  the  city  of  Burlington,  lies  a  broad  sand 
plain  high  above  the  lake  level,  through  which  the 
Central  Railroad  was  to  be  carried  in  a  tunnel.  But 
the  sand  was  destitute  of  moisture  or  cohesiveness, 
and  the  engineers,  after  expending  a  large  sum  of 
money,  decided  that  the  tunnel  could  not  be  con- 


112  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

structed  because  there  were  no  means  of  sustaining 
the  material  during  the  building  of  the  masonry. 
The  removal  of  so  large  a  quantity  of  material  from 
a  cut  of  such  dimensions  also  involved  an  expense 
that  was  prohibitory.  The  route  was  consequently 
given  up  and  the  road  built  in  a  crooked  ravine 
through  the  centre  of  the  city,  involving  ascending 
and  descending  grades  of  more  than  one  hundred 
and  thirty  feet  to  the  mile.  When  the  railroad  was 
opened  these  grades  were  found  to  involve  a  cost 
which  practically  drove  the  through  freights  to  a 
competing  railroad. 

There  was  at  the  time  a  young  man  in  the  en 
gineers'  office  of  the  railroad  who  said  that  he  could 
tunnel  the  sand-bank  at  a  very  small  cost.  He  was 
summoned  before  the  managers  and  questioned. 
"Yes,"  he  said,  modestly,  "I  can  build  the  tunnel  for 
so  many  dollars  per  running  foot,  but  I  cannot  expect 
you  to  act  upon  my  opinion  when  so  many  American 
and  European  engineers  have  declared  the  project 
impracticable."  The  managers  knew  that  the  first 
fifty  feet  of  the  tunnel  involved  all  the  difficulties. 
They  offered  him  and  he  accepted  a  contract  to  build 
fifty  feet  of  the  structure. 

His  plan  was  simplicity  itself.  On  a  vertical  face 
of  the  bank  he  marked  the  line  of  an  arch  larger 
than  the  tunnel.  On  this  line  he  drove  into  the 
bank  sharpened  timbers,  twelve  feet  long,  three  by 
four  inches  square.  Then  he  removed  six  feet  of 
the  material  and  drove  in  another  arch  of  twelve-foot 
timbers,  removing  six  feet  more  of  sand,  repeating 
this  process  until  he  had  space  enough  to  commence 
the  masonry.  As  fast  as  this  was  completed  the 
space  above  it  was  filled,  leaving  the  timbers  in  place. 


SOME  NOTES  ABOUT  BIRDS.  113 

Thus  he  progressed,  keeping  the  masonry  well  up  to 
the  excavation,  until  he  had  pierced  the  bank  with 
the  cheapest  tunnel  ever  constructed,  which  has  car 
ried  the  traffic  of  a  great  railroad  for  thirty  years, 
and  now  stands  as  firm  as  on  the  day  of  its  comple 
tion. 

The  engineer  was  asked  if  there  was  any  sugges 
tion  of  the  structure  adopted  by  him  in  the  books  on 
engineering.  "  No,"  he  said ;  "  it  came  to  me  in  this 
way.  I  was  driving  by  the  place  where  the  first 
attempts  were  made,  of  which  a  colony  of  bank- 
swallows  had  taken  possession.  It  occurred  to  me 
that  these  little  engineers  had  disproved  the  assertion 
that  this  material  had  no  cohesion.  They  have  their 
homes  in  it,  where  they  raise  two  families  every 
summer.  Every  home  is  a  tunnel,  self-sustaining 
without  masonry.  A  larger  tunnel  can  be  con 
structed  by  simply  extending  the  principle.  This  is 
the  whole  story.  The  bank-swallow  is  the  inventor 
of  this  form  of  tunnel  construction.  I  am  simply  a 
copyist — his  imitator." 

There  are  fine  points  in  animal  engineering.  Like 
those  of  the  ants  and  the  timber-eating  beetles  of  the 
tropics,  or  the  calamitas  navium  or  ship- worm  of 
Linna3us,  the  excavations  of  the  bank-swallow  never 
trespass  upon  each  other,  however  numerous  or  prox 
imate  they  may  be.  They  are  separate,  though  some 
times  the  partitions  are  little  thicker  than  paper. 
This  swallow  is  a  cosmopolitan.  He  lives  upon  all 
the  continents,  in  all  the  hemispheres,  from  the  equa 
tor  to  the  ice-bound  shores  crossed  by  the  68th  de 
gree  of  latitude. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

JUDGE  LYNCH — AN  INCIDENT  OF  EARLY  PACIFIC 
RAILROAD  TRAVEL. 

THE  train  for  San  Francisco  was  standing  in  the 
Omaha  station  awaiting  the  transfer  of  the  passen 
gers,  luggage,  and  the  mails  from  the  East.  I  stood 
before  the  window  of  a  telegraph  office  writing  a 
dispatch,  when  a  rather  roughly  clad  person  of  un 
prepossessing  appearance  said  to  me : 

"  Neighbor,  would  you  mind  writin'  one  of  them 
telegrafts  for  me?" 

"Not  at  all,"  I  said,  "if  you  will  dictate  it." 

"  Oh,  yes !"  he  exclaimed,  "  I'll  pay  the  shot;  I  ain't 
no  sponge !" 

"  I  mean,"  I  said,  "that  I  will  write  it  if  you  will 
tell  me  what  you  wish  to  have  written." 

"Sartain!"  he  replied,  scratching  his  head  as  if 
reflecting.  Then  after  a  moment  he  said :  "  Write — 
'On  the  train,  four  o'clock,  in  Omaha.  We've  got 
him !'  " 

"But  no  one  can  understand  such  a  dispatch. 
To  whom  is  it  to  be  sent?  Whom  have  you  got? 
What  name  shall  be  signed  to  it?" 

"Send  it  to  the  boys.  They  will  know  who  it 
comes  from.  Oh,  they  will  understand  it." 

"The  message  cannot  be  sent  unless  you  name 
some  place." 

"Yes,  thet's  so!  Well,  tell  the  ticker  sharp  to 
114 


JUDGE   LYNCH.  115 

send  it  to  Evanston,  Echo,  Green  River,  any  of  them 
places  along  there,  just  as  he  likes." 

Finding  that  I  had  an  original  to  deal  with,  and 
in  order  to  make  him  solely  responsible,  I  said :  "  I 
will  write  whatever  you  say.  Now  begin !" 

"All  right!" 'he  exclaimed.  "Now  I  will  give  it 
to  you  straight.  Write !"  And  I  wrote  as  follows : 

"To  the  Boys.  We're  on  the  train  in  Omaha. 
It's  four  o'clock.  We've  got  him."  . 

"Tell  the  ticker  chap  to  send  it  to  Evanston." 

He  handed  the  message  to  the  operator,  offering 
him  two  prices  if  he  would  "crack  her  right  along," 
thanked  me,  entered  the  smoking-car,  and  the  train 
rolled  away. 

I  arranged  my  section  for  the  long  ride  and  went 
forward.  In  the  small  room  in  the  smoker  were  four 
men.  One  of  them,  who  sat  in  a  corner,  was  a  man 
of  gigantic  stature,  with  the  most  repulsive  face  I 
ever  saw  on  a  human  being  save  one — that  of  Judge 
Terry,  of  California.  It  was  deeply  pitted  by  the 
small- pox  and  crossed  by  scars  which  distorted  his 
mouth  and  gave  a  savage  leer  to  his  right  eye.  His 
mat  of  coarse  black  hair  was  partly  covered  by  a 
broad  sombrero,  once  white,  but  now  the  color  of 
alkali-dust.  His  huge  hands  were  locked  in  hand 
cuffs — each  of  his  splay  feet  was  shackled  to  an  iron 
bar  which  was  fastened  to  the  iron  support  of  the 
seat  by  a  heavy  chain  and  padlock.  He  wore  a  coat 
and  breeches  of  smoke-tanned  leather,  ornamented 
with  long  fringes  of  the  same  material.  Altogether 
he  was  a  person  I  would  have  avoided  as  carefully 
in  the  open  day  as  in  the  darkness  of  midnight.  His 
fellow-travellers  evidently  had  the  monster  in  charge. 
They  were  men  of  the  same  type  as  my  friend  of  the 


116  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

telegram,  and  each  openly  carried,  with  the  handle 
projecting  from  his  hip-pocket,  a  Colt's  revolver  of 
the  largest  calibre.  My  new  acquaintance  shook  me 
cordially  by  the  hand,  motioned  me  to  a  seat  oppo 
site  him  and  near  the  door  of  the  small  room.  After 
some  indifferent  talk,  he  said  he  supposed  I  would 
like  to  know  what  the  game  was,  and  proceeded  to 
give  me  the  following  explanation : 

"  Me  and  my  mates  there  watching  the  Greaser 
work  in  the  coal-yards  at  Evanston,  near  Green 
River,  where  we  buy  our  truck  and  are  well  known. 
Last  winter  a  young  Englishman  came  to  Green 
River  to  hunt  elk  and  b'ar.  He  didn't  freeze  to  his 
money,  neither  did  he  throw  it  away.  He  was  a 
tender-foot,  but  a  white  one.  No  man  went  cold  nor 
hungry  around  his  camp,  and  when  the  black  fever 
come  he  never  run  a  rod.  He  stayed  by  the  'boys, 
for  he  was  a  young  doctor,  and  them  that  did  as  he 
told  'em  got  well.  There  was  nothing  he  wouldn't 
do  for  the  boys,  and  you  may  just  bet  your  pile  the 
boys  swore  by  him.  He  took  an  old  mate  of  mine 
for  his  pard ;  they  made  long  trips,  and  sometimes 
were  gone  for  a  month.  Each  of  them  carried  a 
Winchester  besides  his  knife  and  revolver.  He  had 
two  good  saddle-horses  and  fixings,  with  burros  to 
carry  the  camp  traps  and  provisions. 

"  One  day  they  started  for  a  trip  down  to  the  big 
canyon.  Two  days  later  one  of  the  horses  came  into 
Green  River  with  a  broken  bridle.  It  was  suspi- 
cioned  that  they  was  in  trouble.  The  sheriff,  a  square 
man,  who  didn't  scare  for  a  tribe  of  Injuns,  said  he 
was  bound  he'd  find  out  what  was  the  matter.  He 
started  alone  on  the  trail — which  was  keerless. 

"  After  three  or  four  days,  when  nothing  had  been 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  117 

heard  of  the  sheriff,  that  Greaser  that  you  see  and 
a  half-breed  Comanche  rode  into  Green  River,  one  of 
them  on  the  sheriff's  horse  and  one  on  that  of  the 
Englishman.  They  flourished  the  guns  and  other 
arms  of  the  hunting  party,  hazed  the  whiskey-shops, 
drank  and  took  what  they  pleased  without  pay,  got 
whoopin'  drunk,  fired  off  their  guns,  and  rode  off 
toward  Evanston.  The  Green  River  fellers  ain't  no 
sneaks;  but  it  was  done  so  sudden  that  they  were 
s'prised-like,  and  the  rascals  got  off  without  a  shot. 

"That  Greaser's  name  is  Jesus  Ramon.  Any 
Greaser  is  a  bad  egg,  but  he  is  the  worst  of  the  lot. 
He  is  as  strong  as  a  bull,  as  quick  as  a  cat,  as  mean 
as  a  thief,  and  as  murderous  as  an  Arrapahoe.  He 
has  lived  by  murder  and  robbery  and  horse- stealing, 
and  most  of  the  ranchmen  are  afraid  of  him,  though 
at  the  bottom  he  is  a  coward.  The  Injun  was  afraid 
of  him,  though  he  too  was  quick  on  the  shot.  Well, 
this  Ramon  and  the  Comanche  came  over  to  Evans- 
ton  to  try  the  Green  River  game  over  again.  But 
some  of  our  boys  got  the  drop  on  them  in  the  first 
pulque-shop  they  struck  in  our  pueblo.  They  had  to 
come  down  and  go  to  the  corral,  where  watchers  were 
put  over  them  for  the  night. 

"  Four  of  us  then  started  out  on  the  southern  trail. 
We  only  had  to  ride  about  sixty  miles.  The  buz 
zards  were  sailing  in  the  air  over  an  arroyo  where 
a  pack  of  coyotes  were  snarling  and  snapping  over 
what  was  left  of  the  sheriff,  the  Englishman,  and  his 
pard.  Their  heads  and  enough  of  their  bodies  were 
left  to  show  that  the  hunters  had  been  brained  with 
hatchets,  probably  while  they  were  asleep;  and  the 
sheriff  had  been  shot  in  the  back  just  as  he  had 
reached  the  bodies  of  the  others.  We  didn't  waste 


118  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

any  words.  We  buried  what  the  wolves  had  left 
under  a  big  mound  of  heavy  stones.  Not  a  word 
was  spoke,  but  each  of  us  knew  that  the  three  others 
had  decided  to  attend  personally  to  the  case  of  Jesus 
Ramon. 

"  When  we  got  home  we  found  that  he  had 
bolted.  The  night  had  been  cold,  a  fire  had  been 
built,  and  in  some  way  the  Mexican,  who  was  bound 
with  cords,  had  contrived  to  burn  them  off.  I  have 
told  you  how  strong  and  cute  he  was.  He  waited 
till  midnight,  when  he  made  a  dash,  struck  down 
his  two  guards  with  a  stick  of  wood,  and  got  away 
in  the  darkness.  At  the  nearest  ranch  he  stole  a 
horse  and  made  off. 

"  Then  we  had  a  caucus.  The  Comanche,  who  had 
slept  off  his  drunk,  found  he  was  to  leave  for  the 
happy  hunting-grounds,  and  told  us  the  story.  The 
Greaser  had  murdered  the  first  two  in  their  sleep 
and  shot  the  sheriff  in  the  back  while  he  was  ex 
amining  the  bodies  of  the  others.  We  talked  the 
matter  over,  and  made  up  our  minds  that  our  camp 
would  be  disgraced  if  the  Greaser  was  not  brought 
back  and  punished.  We  four  volunteered  to  bring 
him." 

"What  became  of  the  Indian?"  I  asked. 

"We  hung  him  to  start  with.  He  wasn't  no  ac 
count,  anyway.  He  was  best  out  of  the  way.  We've 
got  a  rule  in  our  camp  that  when  a  man  is  sent  for 
he's  bound  to  come  back  or  be  accounted  for.  The 
men  who  go  for  him  have  got  no  call  to  come  back 
until  they  bring  their  man.  Sometimes  they  bring 
him  on  a  horse,  sometimes  in  a  box.  I  don't  re 
member  no  case  where  the  man  didn't  come. 

"  The  chase  this  Greaser  led  us  would  have  thrown 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  119 

off  a  tenderfoot  at  the  start.  He  stole  a  horse  at 
a  ranch  east  of  the  camp,  where  he  left  his  own  big 
tracks  in  the  corral,  and  the  horse  appeared  to  have 
started  over  some  soft  ground  on  the  gallop.  We 
knew  he  left  that  plain  trail  to  mislead  us,  and  we 
lit  out  in  the  opposite  direction  for  the  Laramie  Plains, 
and  struck  his  true  trail  in  twelve  hours.  I  needn't 
tell  you  what  a  run  he  gave  us.  He  struck  the 
Northern  Pacific,  got  on  the  train,  and  went  to  Seattle. 
We  tried  the  telegraf  t,  but  he  had  been  smart  enough 
to  cut  the  line.  There  he  shipped  on  a  brig  bound 
for  a  port  near  Los  Angeles  with  lumber.  We  guessed 
he  would  get  on  the  Southern  Pacific  and  try  for  the 
mountains  of  El  Paso,  for  we  knew  he  would  not  go 
to  Mexico,  where  he  was  wanted.  We  put  for  'Frisco 
by  stage  and  train,  then  on  the  Southern  Pacific  to 
Fort  Yuma,  where  we  found  he  was  still  ahead  of  us. 
Some  one  must  have  let  him  know  that  we  were  after 
him  and  that  the  scent  was  hot,  for  he  kept  on  east. 
We  followed  him  to  '  Orleans, '  where  we  lost  the  trail. 
We  wired  his  description  and  what  he  was  wanted 
for  north  and  northeast.  He  was  so  marked  that  you 
could  describe  him  easy.  One  day  while  we  was 
halted  in '  Orleans  '  came  a  telegraf  t  that  our  man  had 
killed  another  in  a  drunken  scrap  in  St.  Louis  and 
skipped  north.  We  again  took  up  the  trail  and 
followed  it  up  the  Mississippi,  over  into  the  Dominion 
to  the  Canada  Pacific  Railroad.  He  had  struck  it, 
started  west,  but  left  it  at  Saskatchewan.  There  we 
lost  him  again,  and  if  it  hadn't  been  for  that  ugly 
cabeza  of  his  he  might  have  got  away  for  the  time. 
Here  we  had  to  stay  six  weeks,  until  the  boys  could 
send  us  money,  for  we  had  spent  the  last  nickel. 
One  day,  in  the  tepee  of  an  Injun  on  the  west  shore 


120  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

of  Lake  Winnipeg,  two  of  my  pards  there  got  the 
drop  on  him.  He  had  to  hold  up  his  hands  and  give 
up,  peaceful-like,  for  he  was  looking  into  the  barrels 
of  two  Winchesters,  and  he  knew  the  boys  was  quick 
on  the  pull. 

"  We  cleaned  him  out  of  knives  and  guns,  down  to 
a  toothpick,  took  him  to  a  blacksmith,  and  had  the 
bracelets  just  riveted  on  his  arms  and  ankles.  We 
brought  him  to  Omaha  without  much  trouble.  But 
now,  when  we're  only  a  day  or  two  from  home,  he's 
got  some  scheme  in  his  head  which  may  break  out 
any  minute.  Since  they  sent  us  the  last  money, 
nearly  four  weeks  ago,  the  boys  hadn't  heard  from 
us  until  I  sent  that  telegraft.  I  got  you  to  write  it," 
he  said  with  a  roguish  expression,  "  because  I  write  a 
back  hand,  and  I  wasn't  sure  they  would  be  able  to 
read  it.  They  will  be  on  hand  at  Evanston." 

"  How  could  they  make  anything  out  of  that 
dispatch?"  I  asked.  "It  was  unsigned  and  not  di 
rected  to  anybody.  It  didn't  say  whom  you  had 
got,  and  what  was  that  nonsense  about  the  time  of 
day?" 

"You  couldn't  make  it  plainer,"  he  replied.  "All 
the  boys  are  in  the  game,  so  it  wasn't  no  account 
who  got  the  dispatch.  Nobody  but  us  was  on  the 
trail,  and  we  warn't  hunting  anybody  but  the 
Greaser.  When  it  said  it  was  four  o'clock  on  the 
train,  they  could  figger  when  we'd  get  to  camp.  It 
was  as  plain  as  a  badger's  trail  in  the  alkali-dust. 
The  boys  will  be  on  hand,  sure !" 

"  I  suppose  you  will  turn  your  prisoner  over  to  the 
sheriff,"  I  said.  "  Where  is  the  jail  in  which  he  will 
be  kept  until  he  is  tried?" 

"Sheriff!     Jail!"  he  exclaimed,  as  if  he  did  not 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  121 

understand  me.  "  Not  much !  "We've  got  no  sheriff ! 
He  murdered  him.  The  corral  is. all  the  jail  he  will 
want.  Maybe  he  will  have  a  trial,  maybe  he  won't. 
What's  the  good  of  a  trial?  Didn't  he  shoot  the 
sheriff  in  the  back  and  murder  the  Englishman  and 
my  old  pard  in  their  sleep?  He  didn't  give  them  no 
trial,  why  should  he  have  one?  But  likely  the  boys 
will  have  settled  that." 

"  I  hope  you  don't  intend  to  have  Judge  Lynch 
try  this  man?  That  would  be  a  crime  in  this  country 
of  law  and  order." 

"  I  don't  know  that  Judge  Lynch,"  he  said.  "  Our 
judge's  name  is  Bascom.  He's  a  very  strong  law- 
and-order  man.  Suppose  you  stop  over  one  train  and 
see.  If  there  is  a  trial  you  shall  be  on  the  jury. 
Then  you  will  see  how  regular  our  trials  are.  I 
wouldn't  wonder  if  the  boys  held  the  train  so  that 
everybody  may  see  what  a  fair  show  he'll  get." 

It  was  in  the  afternoon  when  we  approached 
Evanston.  I  again  went  forward  to  the  smoking- 
car.  The  train  slowed  and  ran  up  to  the  station 
between  two  lines  of  stalwart  men.  The  boys  bad 
understood  the  dispatch,  for  as  soon  as  the  train 
came  to  a  stop  six  of  them  entered  the  car. 

"Come,  Jesus  Ramon!"  said  their  leader.  The 
Greaser  began  to  jabber  something  in  Spanish,  when 
he  was  seized  and  torn  out  of  the  car  so  quickly  that 
he  carried  the  seat  to  which  he  had  been  chained 
with  him.  Some  one  released  him  from  the  seat,  a 
lasso  was  deftly  cast  over  his  head  and  tightened 
around  his  chest  and  arms.  A  single  order  was 
given,  "To  the  corral!"  and  the  procession  moved. 
A  guard  had  in  the  mean  time  taken  control  of  the 
locomotive,  and  it  was  announced  that  the  train 


122  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

would  not  leave  until  notice  should  be  given  that  the 
exercises  had  closed. 

The  passengers  followed  the  crowd  to  the  corral, 
an  inclosure  where  horses  and  cattle  were  kept,  sur 
rounded  by  a  strong  close  and  high  fence.  Near 
its  centre  stood  a  lofty  pine  tree,  which  threw  out 
its  first  branch  forty  feet  above  the  ground.  The 
ends  of  two  lassos  were  knotted  together  and  the 
double  length  cast  over  the  branch.  The  end  which 
carried  the  noose  was  lowered  to  within  a  couple  of 
yards  of  a  wooden  stool,  the  other  end  was  carried 
outward  and  attached  to  two  additional  lassos.  The 
prisoner  was  brought  forward,  forcibly  seated  upon 
the  stool,  and  the  noose  was  adjusted  to  his  neck. 

There  were  about  two  hundred  men  present  in 
their  working  clothes ;  the  passengers  and  men  from 
the  train  counted  another  hundred.  The  silence  was 
oppressive.  At  last  one  of  the  men  stepped  forward 
and  addressed  the  Mexican  substantially  in  these 
words,  written  down  by  me  on  my  return  to  the 
train : 

"  Jesus  Ramon,  you  have  come  to  the  last  day  of 
your  life.  You  are  no  good.  You  have  spent  your 
life  in  drunkenness,  fighting,  horse-stealing,  and 
murder.  You  have  been  a  thief  and  a  murderer  for 
forty  years.  When  a  boy  you  shot  Indians  for  fun. 
You  always  shot  your  victims  in  the  back.  You  are 
a  terror  to  women.  Your  last  crimes  have  been  the 
meanest.  This  Englishman  had  been  kind  to  you. 
When  you  said  you  were  poor  he  gave  you  a  horse, 
a  rifle,  and  money.  While  he  was  off  on  a  hunt  and 
you  knew  he  had  but  little  money  with  him,  you  stole 
upon  him  like  a  coward  and  killed  him  and  his  pard 
in  their  sleep.  The  sheriff  had  befriended  you,  and 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  123 

you  shot  him  in  the  back  for  his  reward.  You  in 
sulted  the  people  of  Green  River  by  riding  through 
their  town  on  the  horse  of  one  of  your  victims,  and 
you  dared  to  give  us  the  same  insult.  We  have  con 
sidered  your  case  and  find  that  you  don't  want  any 
trial.  You  were  guilty  of  three  fresh  -murders,  and 
you  ran.  You  have  cost  us  some  time  and  money. 
You  are  now  standing  very  near  to  the  end  of  your 
worthless  life.  Have  you  any  words  or  message  to 
send  or  leave  before  you  die?" 

The  wretch  muttered  something  in  Spanish  to  the 
effect  that  he  understood  nothing.  Many  voices  de 
clared  that  he  had  often  spoken  English.  His  anger 
betrayed  him.  "  One  chance !"  he  yelled.  "  Give  me 
one  chance  and  I  fight  you  all !" 

"  No,  Ramon ;  your  fights  are  ended.  Do  you  want 
a  priest?" 

"  Caramba!  No !"  he  snarled,  with  the  expression 
of  a  tiger.  "  I  give  you  six,  ten  mil  pesos  for  lib 
erty!  Ten  thousand  dollars!" 

"You  might  as  well  promise  to  give  the  earth. 
You  never  had  a  peso  of  your  own,  and  if  you  had 
ten  million  of  them  they  would  not  help  you  now." 

"  I  haf  an  amigo.  He  gif  me  plata  and  oro.  I 
bring  it  here  in  tree  day !" 

"  Jesus  Ramon !"  and  there  was  no  one  present 
who  was  not  impressed  by  the  solemnity  of  the  voice, 
"do  you  see  that  train?"  He  pointed  to  an  in-com 
ing  train  far  out  on  the  level  plain,  not  less  than  six 
miles  away.  "  If  you  have  any  request  to  make,  any 
message  to  leave,  any  prayer  to  make  to  God,  make 
it!  For  when  that  train  whistles  for  the  station 
you  die!" 

I  felt  some  inclination  to  intervene  for  law  and 


124  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

order,  but  it  was  very  slight.  The  scene  was  singu 
larly  impressive.  The  open  country  at  the  base  of 
the  foot-hills  on  one  side,  with  the  naked  mountain 
two  miles  high  overlooking  it,  and  the  rays  of  the 
setting  sun  projecting  lengthening  shadows  toward 
the  east.  In  the  other  direction  the  alkali  plain, 
with  the  train  crawling  slowly  over  it,  and  in  the 
corral  the  wretch  gloomily  awaiting  his  doom.  It 
was  an  experience  never  to  be  forgotten. 

Then  the  stern  voice  of  the  leader  again  broke  the 
silence.  "Men,  form  your  lines!"  A  double  line 
moved  outward,  the  hand  of  each  man  grasping  the 
free  end  of  the  lasso,  for  no  one  was  to  fail  to  take 
his  share  of  the  responsibility.  "Men!"  said  the 
leader,  "  let  it  not  be  said  that  we  did  not  give  even 
this  miserable  Greaser  one  chance  to  live  and  become 
a  better  man.  We  know  his  past  life.  There  is  not 
within  fifty  miles  a  ranch  that  he  has  not  robbed,  a 
corral  from  which  he  has  not  stolen,  a  pulque-shop 
which  he  has  not  laid  under  contribution.  We  have 
never  known  him  to  earn  a  dollar  or  pay  for  any 
thing.  He  never  saw  an  Indian  woman  without  in 
sulting  her,  a  man  with  money  without  trying  to  rob 
him.  We  know  of  twenty  murders  he  has  com 
mitted,  every  one,  so  far  as  we  know,  cowardly. 
But  if  there  is  in  this  crowd  one  man  who  ever  knew 
Ramon  to  do  any  decent  act  which  made  any  man  or 
woman  better,  or  who  believes  that  if  we  let  him  go 
he  would  be  any  better  in  the  future,  let  him  speak, 
and  the  criminal  shall  have,  at  least,  a  delay !  No 
one  speaks !  We  have  another  rule — If  one  man  in 
twenty  of  those  present  is  in  doubt  or  would  advise 
a  postponement  of  the  execution,  it  must  be  post 
poned.  You  that  would  postpone  it,  hold  up  your 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  125 

right  hands ;  and  the  passengers  and  train  hands,  on 
this  question,  have  a  right  to  vote." 

But  not  a  hand  was  raised.  It  seemed  to  be  my 
duty  to  testify  for  law  and  order,  but  my  right  arm 
felt  as  if  a  hundred-pound  weight  were  pulling  it 
down.  The  train  was  very  near  now;  the  lines 
were  dressed  so  that  each  man  stood  erect,  his  face 
turned  away  from  the  tree.  We  almost  held  our 
breaths.  Now!  There  was  a  puff  of  white  steam 
from  the  locomotive — with  measured  step  the  men 
moved  outward — there  was  a  horribly  spasmodic 
struggle — and  in  a  few  minutes  all  was  over. 

"Friends,"  said  the  spokesman,  addressing  the 
passengers,  "you  have  seen  that  we  treated  this 
Greaser  justly  and  fairly.  We  who  live  here  and 
have  to  protect  our  property  and  our  lives  ask  one 
favor  of  you.  We  don't  like  this  business,  but  it  has 
to  be  done.  Do  not  give  us  away  to  the  newspapers. 
They  will  send  a  swarm  of  reporters  here,  who  are 
worse  than  a  band  of  Piute  Indians.  Some  of  them 
will  make  it  out  that  Ramon,  the  murderer  and  horse- 
thief,  was  a  Christian  martyr.  We  ask  you  to  keep 
your  own  counsel." 

The  whistle  sounded,  the  conductor  commanded 
all  aboard,  the  bell  rang,  and  our  train  moved  west 
ward.  We  had  been  delayed  exactly  one  hour,  which 
was  made  up  before  we  reached  the  next  station  on 
the  plains  of  Laramie. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

JUDGE  LYNCH,  CONTINUED — AN  EXPERIENCE 
IN  A  WESTERN  MINING-CAMP. 

I  WAS  on  a  visit  to  a  mining-camp  down  the  val 
ley  from  Austin,  Nevada.  The  camp  was  in  a  canyon 
wide  enough  for  the  road  and  a  row  of  buildings  on 
each  side.  The  mines  in  the  rocks  on  either  hand 
were  entered  through  drifts  nearly  on  a  level  with 
the  road. 

I  had  breakfasted  with  the  family  of  the  superin 
tendent,  and,  with  several  of  the  leading  men  of  the 
camp,  was  smoking  a  cigar  on  a  raised  platform  in 
front  of  the  counting-room,  when  we  heard  from  a 
whiskey-shop  on  the  other  side  of  the  way,  a  short 
distance  above,  the  crack  of  a  revolver. 

"  The  shooting  begins  early  this  morning  at  Pat's !" 
remarked  the  superintendent.  "That  is  the  worst 
gambling  and  fighting  hole  at  the  camp.  We  count 
on  a  shooting  game  there  as  often  as  once  a  week. " 

While  he  was  speaking  a  man  ran  out  of  "  Pat's" 
into  a  groggery  on  the  opposite  side,  then  came  out 
and  started  up  an  arroyo  or  dry  watercourse  at  right 
angles  to  the  canyon. 

"  Stop  thief !"     What  magic  is  there  in  those  words 

to  collect  a  crowd.     Except  the  fugitive,  there  had 

been  no  human  being  visible — within  a  moment  after 

this  cry  there  were  fifty.     They  were  multiplied  by 

126 


AN    EXPERIENCE  IN  A  MINING-CAMP.         127 

"Stop  the  murderer!"  "Shoot  the  rascal!"— and  a 
crowd  of  old  men  and  young  boys  and  Indians 
streamed  up  the  arroyo  after  the  flying  man.  A 
young  active  runner  was  in  the  advance,  rapidly 
overtaking  the  fugitive.  "  Stop !"  I  heard  him  cry. 
"  Halt  and  throw  up  your  hands,  or  I  will  drop  you 
as  I  would  a  coyote !"  He  was  obeyed.  The  man 
halted,  held  up  his  hands,  faced  down  the  hill,  and 
coolly  asked  of  his  captor,  "  W  ell,  what  do  you  want 
of  me?" 

"  I  want  you  to  march  down  the  hill  to  the  road. 
Then  I  will  tell  you  what  to  do  farther."  To  the 
crowd  he  said:  "This  man  is  my  meat.  I  am  a 
sheriff,  and  no  man  shall  touch  my  prisoner !  Put 
up  your  guns !  No  man  shall  have  him  until  I  have 
finished  with  him." 

The  crowd  rather  sullenly  acquiesced.  They  got 
the  sheriff  and  his  prisoner  in  their  midst  and  forced 
them  into  the  road  in  front  of  where  we  were  sitting. 
There  they  halted,  and  I  heard  subdued  expressions  of 
"  Let's  take  him  to  the  corral !"  "  Who's  got  a  rope?" 
"A  lasso  will  answer!"  Some  one  in  the  crowd 
shouted,  "  He  has  shot  Billy  Osborne ! "  and  the  mur 
murs  were  increased. 

"What  do  they  want  to  do  with  this  man?"  I 
asked  of  the  superintendent. 

"Hang  him,  I  reckon,"  he  replied.  "If  he  has 
killed  Osborne  I  am  rather  in  favor  of  it  myself. " 

This  cool  proposition  to  lynch  the  fellow  shocked 
me.  Meantime  the  sheriff  was  shouting  and  threat 
ening,  but  I  saw  that  he  was  in  fear  that  the  pris 
oner  might  be  taken  out  of  his  hands.  I  rose  im 
pulsively  and  addressed  the  crowd.  I  urged  them 
not  to  commit  another  murder,  but  to  have  the  man 


128  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

tried.  "  He  didn't  give  Billy  no  show !"  said  one. 
"  He  was  worth  a  hundred  like  him." 

"No  matter  about  that,"  I  said.  "Anybody  is 
entitled  to  a  trial.  Convict  him,  and  then  hang  him 
as  soon  as  you  like." 

It  was  evident  that  I  was  making  but  little  im 
pression.  They  seemed  to  listen  to  my  earnestness 
with  a  kind  of  amused  expression.  The  young 
sheriff's  deputy,  however,  took  the  opportunity  to 
work  his  man  toward  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  near  the 
mouth  of  a  drift  into  the  mine.  Suddenly  he  shoved 
his  prisoner  inside,  placed  himself  in  front  of  the 
opening,  revolver  in  hand,  and  said : 

"  I  don't  like  to  disappoint  you,  boys,  but  I  am  an 
officer,  and  I  am  bound  to  hold  this  man  and  commit 
him  to  jail.  I  know  the  inside  of  this  mine.  There 
is  no  place  to  get  into  or  out  of  it  but  here.  No  man 
goes  into  it  but  to  help  me.  The  man  inside  don't 
come  out  until  I  have  bound  him  so  that  he  cannot 
get  away.  You  had  better  give  up  the  chase,  boys, 
or  turn  in  and  help  me  tie  him !" 

There  were  murmurs  of  dissatisfaction,  but  the 
crowd  gradually  dispersed.  I  attended  the  inquest. 
The  prisoner,  it  was  proved,  was  an  ill-tempered, 
reckless  gambler  and  cheat,  who  had  been  driven 
out  of  a  mining-town  some  thirty  miles  south  and 
had  only  come  into  this  camp  the  previous  afternoon. 
At  a  monte  game  at  "  Pat's  "  he  had  been  caught 
cheating  and  had  a  fight,  but  the  quarrel  was  made 
up  and  the  game  went  on  until  daybreak,  when  the 
party  separated,  the  gambler  and  the  man  who  de 
tected  him  apparently  friends.  The  gambler  went 
into  a  whiskey-mill  opposite,  borrowed  a  revolver, 
and  came  back.  As  he  entered  "  Pat's  "  he  aimed  at 


AN    EXPERIENCE  IN  A  MINING-CAMP.         129 

his  opponent,  fired,  and  his  ball  struck  in  the  fore 
head  of  a  miner  who  was  asleep  sitting  on  a  bench, 
killing  him  instantly. 

Some  of  the  testimony  was  pathetic.  Osborne,  the 
murdered  man,  was  a  general  favorite.  "  He  was  my 
pard,"  said  one.  "He  had  a  wife  and  kids  in  the 
East  and  he  was  working  to  pay  for  his  little  farm. 
In  another  month  or  two  his  pile  would  be  big 
enough,  and  he  was  going  home.  'I  can't  drink 
with  the  boys,'  he  used  to  say,  'if  I  don't  set  up  the 
p'ison,  and  every  dollar  I  spend  that  way  puts  off 
the  time  when  my  babies  will  be  climbing  on  my  lap 
and  hanging  on  to  n^  neck. '  '  And  honest  tears 
rolled  down  the  rough  face  of  the  narrator  as  he  said 
with  a  trembling  voice,  "  He  was  a  white  man,  was 
my  pard,  and  it's  an  infernal  shame  to  have  such  a 
man  wiped  out  by  a  d — d  skulking,  good-for-nothing 
long-fingered  monte  sharp." 

The  verdict  was  wilful  murder.  Before  it  was 
given  a  wagon  with  a  pair  of  horses  on  the  gallop 
dashed  down  the  road.  The  wagon  contained  three 
men.  Lying  on  his  back  in  the  straw,  bound  hand 
and  foot,  was  the  murderer,  who  was  being  taken 
to  the  jail  at  the  county  town. 

The  same  afternoon,  after  a  weary  tramp  through 
the  mines,  I  was  seated  on  the  same  platform,  rest 
ing.  I  had  met  in  these  Western  mines  graduates 
of  our  universities,  thoroughly  intelligent  men.  I 
was  not,  therefore,  much  surprised  when  a  miner 
with  grizzled  hair,  clad  in  his  working  dress,  came 
to  me  and  said : 

"  I  suppose,  sir,  that  you  are  pleased  by  the  success 
of  your  intervention  for  that  murderer  this  morning?" 

I  answered  that  it  was  only  natural  that  I  should 
9 


130  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

be  gratified  if  any  effort  of  mine  had  prevented  a 
breach  of  the  law  and  tended  to  secure  the  man  a 
fair  trial,  and  that  I  looked  upon  murder  by  lynch 
ing  as  no  better  than  murder  with  malice. 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  he  said.  "  Your  opinion  would 
be  more  valuable  if  you  had  my  experience.  Here 
is  a  wretch  who  lives  by  cheating ;  probably  he  never 
earned  an  honest  dollar.  He  lives  upon  the  industry 
of  others.  He  wanders  from  camp  to  camp,  robbing 
or  cheating  every  one  who  gives  him  the  opportunity. 
Driven  out  of  Belmont,  he  came  here,  and  naturally 
gravitated  to  the  nearest  dog-hole  in  the  camp.  He 
had  not  been  here  twenty-four  hours  before  he  had 
killed  an  industrious,  worthy  man,  who  was  working 
for  his  wife  and  children  in  the  East.  Had  you  not 
interfered,  the  boys  would  have  laid  him  away  and 
covered  him  where  he  would  never  again  have  done 
any  harm  to  anybody.  You  stopped  the  boys  in  their 
good  work.  You  have  done  nothing  to  be  proud  of, 
sir!" 

"He  will  not  escape  punishment,"  I  replied. 
"Upon  the  evidence  he  must  be  indicted  and  con 
victed,  and  he  ought  to  be  hung." 

"  Do  you  think  so?  How  little  you  know  about 
this  sage-brush  country!  He  is  in  no  danger  from 
the  law,  and  he  knows  it.  He  will  employ  lawyers, 
hire  gamblers  to  swear  falsely,  and  probably  be  ac 
quitted.  If  not,  the  worst  that  will  happen  will  be 
that  the  jury  will  disagree  and  he  will  get  out  on 
straw  bail.  There  is  only  one  way  to  deal  with  such 
wretches.  They  are  only  good  to  stretch  a  lasso.  I 
have  had  twenty-five  years'  experience,  and  I  know." 

"  Would  you  be  willing  to  relate  any  experience  of 
yours  which  justifies  hanging  a  man  without  a  trial?" 


AN    EXPERIENCE  IN  A  MINING-CAMP.         131 

"  I  will  tell  you  a  little  story ;  you  may  draw  your 
own  conclusions,"  he  said.  "I  was  a  forty-niner  in 
Grizzly  Gulch,  in  Nevada  County,  California.  We 
had  all  kinds  of  men  from  almost  every  country. 
Our  camp  was  a  mile  away  from  the  Gulch,  where 
we  were  placer-mining.  Some  lived  in  tents,  some 
in  huts.  Every  day  all  the  men  left  the  camp  and 
stayed  all  day  in  the  diggings — not  a  man  was  left 
in  a  camp  in  which  there  was  not  a  bolt  nor  a  lock 
and  very  few  doors.  We  had  no  stealing — no  claim- 
jumping.  If  two  men  disagreed  and  they  were  any 
way  fairly  matched,  they  fought  with  their  fists 
and  then  shook  hands  and  were  friends.  If  they 
were  not  matched,  some  one  volunteered  or  we  made 
it  even  some  other  way.  That  was  a  camp  worth 
living  in.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  travel  there. 
We  used  to  set  our  pans  of  gold  out  in  the  sun  to 
dry.  A  man  would  take  up  a  pan  and  examine  the 
dust,  but  he  always  put  it  down  just  as  he  found  it. 
Along  at  first  there  were  some  scraps.  Some  horses 
and  burros  were  stolen.  But  the  thieves  were  always 
sent  for  and  we  hung  them  every  time.  We  have 
sent  after  men  to  Mexico,  Alaska,  and  over  the 
Sierra. 

"  After  people  got  acquainted  with  us  and  things 
got  settled,  we  had  the  peaceablest  camp  on  the  coast. 
I  don't  remember  one  case  where  the  thief  got  away 
with  another  man's  money  or  property.  We  made 
our  judges  and  lawyers  as  we  wanted  them,  and 
when  the  trial  was  over  they  went  back  to  work  in 
the  diggings.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  live  there.  I  tell 
you  that  in  a  new  country  what  you  call  law  and 
order  may  do  for  milksops;  men  want  something 
stronger." 


132  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

"  How  many  men  do  you  suppose  you  hung  before 
the  country  got,  as  you  call  it,  settled?" 

"I  don't  remember.     Maybe  twenty." 

"Do  you  not  think  that  as  population  increases 
laws  and  judges  are  necessary,  or  at  least  use 
ful?" 

"They  may  be;  but,  like  other  evils,  should  be 
postponed  as  long  as  they  can  be.  They  are  not  yet 
necessary  in  this  camp.  When  they  are  I  shall 
migrate." 

"  Was  the  condition  you  have  described  in  Nevada 
County  permanent,  or  did  it  soon  change?" 

"It  was  temporary.  When  the  diggings  were 
washed  out,  hydraulic  and  quartz  mining  came  in 
and  the  forty-niners  scattered.  I  went  there  a  few 
weeks  ago  on  a  visit.  Well !  there  was  a  change ! 
They  have  got  churches  and  a  big  school-house  and 
two  newspapers !  And  how  those  newspapers  do  abuse 
each  other !  They  have  got  a  big  stone  court-house 
and  judges,  three  or  four  kinds,  and  sheriffs,  and  all 
sorts  of  offices.  You  would  think  that  one-half  the 
people  were  living  on  the  others.  One  day  while  I 
was  there  a  stage  came  into  the  town,  the  horses  on 
the  run  and  the  passengers  very  white  under  the 
gills.  What  was  the  matter?  Only  two  miles  out 
side  the  town  two  masked  gentlemen  had  stopped 
that  stage,  ordered  the  passengers  out  (five  of  them 
were  called  men),  made  them  hold  up  their  hands, 
and  one  robber  went  through  them  while  the  other 
watched  with  a  cocked  gun.  The  whole  party  were 
cleaned  out  of  their  watches  and  money.  They  even 
searched  two  women  and  took  their  trinkets.  One 
of  the  passengers,  a  merchant,  made  some  effort  to 
defend  his  bar  of  gold,  and  they  shot  him  down  and 


AN    EXPERIENCE  IN  A  MINING-CAMP.         133 

left  him  dying  in  the  road !  Have  you  heard  that 
these  murderers  were  punished?  Oh,  no!  The  news 
papers  published  columns  about  the  'horrible  out 
rage.'  A  public  meeting  was  called,  resolutions 
were  passed,  rewards  offered,  and  the  biggest  kind  of 
a  fuss  was  made.  But  the  murderers  have  been  as 
safe  as  a  thief  in  a  mill.  What  would  we  have  done 
in  '50?  I  will  tell  you.  We  would  not  have  had  any 
meetings  or  resolutions.  We  would  have  picked 
out  our  two  best  men  for  that  kind  of  work. 
They  wouldn't  have  been  troubled  by  any  orders. 
But  they  would  have  taken  that  trail  and  run  it 
down,  with  two  dead  highway  robbers  at  the  end  of 
it,  or  they  would  have  been  following  it  to-day !  You 
may  not  like  that  kind  of  practice  for  murderers ;  I 
do.  It  makes  a  more  quiet  camp." 

I  could  not  deny  some  of  the  premises  of  the  grizzly 
miner.  To  test  his  prophecies,  I  made  it  in  my  way 
to  visit  the  county  town  where  the  fellow  who  had 
just  shot  Osborne  was  to  be  tried.  I  arrived  late  in 
the  evening  and  was  shown  to  a  room  in  the  hotel, 
where,  after  a  futile  attempt  to  rid  myself  of  a  coat 
ing  of  alkali-dust,  I  took  my  supper  and  retired.  I 
could  not  sleep ;  there  was  a  murmur  of  voices  and  a 
clink  of  coin  in  the  room  below.  After  tossing  on 
my  bed  for  two  hours,  I  dressed  and  went  below  to 
investigate.  Adjoining  the  bar  was  an  improvised 
gambling-room.  At  one  end  of  it  a  clerical-looking 
gentleman  was  dealing  faro;  at  the  other  was  a 
roulette-wheel  and  a  man  profuse  in  his  invitations 
to  the  boys  to  try  their  luck.  The  landlord  could  not 
give  me  another  room  unless  I  would  occupy  the  same 
bed  with  a  stranger,  and  he  said  the  boys  would  want 
to  keep  up  their  game  until  daylight.  I  spent  the 


134  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

rest  of  the  night  in  reading  a  blood-and-thunder 
novel  which  I  found  in  my  room. 

Among  the  visitors  I  found  the  next  morning  my 
old  acquaintance,  the  advocate  of  lynch  law.  He 
said  the  game  was  set  up  and  the  fellow  would  be 
acquitted  on  the  ground  of  self -de fence.  But  the 
boys  had  come  over  from  the  camp ;  there  might  be 
some  chance  for  them  to  take  a  hand. 

The  room  was  filled  with  a  very  miscellaneous 
crowd  when  the  court  was  opened.  Scarcely  three 
of  the  regular  panel  of  jurors  answered,  and  the 
sheriff  filled  the  panel  with  talesmen  from  the  crowd. 
The  whole  bar  appeared  to  be  acting  for  the  respond 
ent,  and  the  young  prosecutor  seemed  to  be  com 
pletely  outweigh  ted.  He  proved  the  facts,  however, 
and  made  full  proof  for  a  conviction. 

A  cloud  of  witnesses  appeared  for  the  respondent. 
His  defence  was  contradictory  and  almost  impossi 
ble.  It  was  a  case  of  accidental  shooting;  he  in 
tended  to  kill  the  other  fellow,  but  it  was  proved  that 
the  dead  man  had  had  a  difficulty  with  the  respond 
ent  at  Belmont,  and  two  witnesses,  who  were  most 
undoubtedly  suborned,  swore  that  he  had  threatened 
the  respondent's  life.  The  jury  made  short  work  of 
the  case,  and  in  ten  minutes  brought  in  a  verdict  of 
not  guilty. 

After  the  verdict  I  again  met  my  lynch-law 
friend.  He  did  not  say  "  I  told  you  so !"  He  was  hi 
a  serious  frame  of  mind ;  said  he  had  told  the  gam 
bler  to  get  out  of  town  as  soon  as  he  could  and  try 
to  live  a  decent  life ;  but  he  was  cocky,  would  not 
take  his  advice,  and  now  he  might  go  to  the  devil  in 
his  own  way.  His  road  might  be  a  short  one,  for 
Osborne  had  many  friends,  some  of  whom  had  wit- 


AN   EXPERIENCE  IN  A  MINING-CAMP.          135 

nessed  the  sham  of  a  trial  and  might  pull  their  guns 
upon  the  murderer  on  any  reasonable  provocation. 

I  was  compelled  for  want  of  a  conveyance  to  pass 
another  night  in  the  town,  and  at  the  same  hotel, 
for  there  was  no  other.  As  I  passed  the  door  of  the 
gambling-room  I  saw  that  the  acquitted  felon  had 
taken  the  place  of  the  clerical-looking  party  and 
was  dealing  faro.  He  had  been  hired  by  the  propri 
etor  as  a  drawing  card.  I  was  weary  and  fell  asleep 
notwithstanding  the  sound  of  profanity  and  the  jingle 
of  coin  which  came  up  from  below. 

The  sound  of  a  single  shot  awakened  me.  I  sprang 
from  my  bed,  on  which  I  had  thrown  myself  without 
undressing,  and  went  to  the  foot  of  the  stairway. 
Through  the  door  I  saw  a  crowd  around  the  prostrate 
form  of  a  man  near  the  dealer's  chair,  and  I  heard 
expressions  of  "  He's  a  goner !"  "  He's  passed  in  his 
checks,"  and  the  like.  My  friend  of  lynch-law 
sympathies  approached  me,  pointed  to  the  motionless 
bod3T,  and  whispered  the  single  word  "  Habet !  "  The 
prostrate  man  was  the  gambler,  and  he  was  dead. 

A  witness  at  the  inquest  next  day  gave  substan 
tially  the  following  account  of  the  "scrap,"  as  he 
called  it.  The  table  was  full,  and  two  boys  from  the 
mining-camp  were  bucking  the  tiger.  Every  time 
there  was  a  pile  on  any  card  the  bank  won.  One  of 
the  mining  boys  asked  if  it  was  a  skin  game.  The 
owner  swore  it  was  square.  "  He  never  played  any 
thing  but  a  square  game.  He  didn't  believe  it  would 
be  safe  to  put  up  a  skin  game  on  that  crowd." 

"Rigbt  you  are,"  said  the  miner.  "It  wouldn't 
be  safe.  I'd  as  lief  not  play;  but  if  I  am  in  the 
gamq.  has  got  to  be  square,  or  maybe  su thin '11  hap 
pen.  Your  dealer  there  is  quick  on  the  shoot,  I  know, 


136  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

and  I  don't  believe  he's  square.  Oh,  you  needn't 
slide  your  hand  down  to  your  pocket  that  way. 
See?"  and  in  a  flash  he  had  the  pull  on  him. 

"  I  was  not  going  to  draw  on  you, "  said  the  dealer 
as  he  took  up  the  pack. 

"All  right,"  said  the  miner.  "I  was  only  saying 
don't  you  deal  two  cards,  nor  try,  again.  I  don't 
know  as  you  dealt  two  cards,  but  I  know  you  tried," 
he  continued  as  he  lowered  his  revolver. 

After  that  the  game  went  on  very  quietly.  The 
mining  boys  lost  a  good  pile,  then  their  luck  turned 
and  they  played  it  man-fashion.  There  were  only 
three  cards  in  the  box  when  one  of  the  boys  coppered 
the  nine  of  clubs  for  ten  twenty-dollar  gold-pieces. 
I  never  saw  anything  done  quicker.  The  next  card 
was  the  bank's.  He  dealt  it  and  turned  it  up.  Be 
fore  he  could  lay  it  on  the  pile  the  miner  had  plugged 
him.  As  he  fell,  two  cards  dropped  from  his  fin 
gers.  The  miner  said,  "  That  play  was  for  Billy 
Osborne !" 

The  jury  returned  a  verdict  that  the  shooting  was 
in  self-defence.  It  seemed  to  satisfy  everybody.  As 
I  was  about  entering  the  stage  the  next  day,  my  lec 
turing  friend,  who  was  in  a  reflective  mood,  said, 
"Was  it  Cicero  or  Tacitus  who  wrote  'Ah  alio  spec- 
tes,  alteri  quod  feceris' ?  It  is  as  sound  doctrine  in 
a  Nevada  poker-shop  as  in  the  Roman  Senate.  The 
gambler  got  what  he  had  given  to  Osborne  and  no 
doubt  to  many  others.  It  was  the  best  disposition 
that  could  have  been  made  of  him,  for  himself  and 
certainly  for  the  community." 

The  advocate  of  what  he  would  have  called  "  nat 
ural  justice "  was  a  singular  illustration  of  the  ten 
dency  of  our  race  to  retrograde  toward  its  original 


AN  EXPERIENCE  IN  A  MINING-CAMP.         137 

condition.  This  man  was  a  university  graduate,  of 
good  family,  in  comfortable  circumstances.  Moved 
by  a  pure  spirit  of  adventure  and  the  attractions  of 
the  gold  discoveries,  he  had  crossed  the  plains  and 
become  a  gold-digger.  His  habits  appeared  to  be 
fairly  good,  and  now  for  years  he  had  experienced 
the  vicissitudes  of  a  miner's  life,  and  at  that  time 
was  a  common  workman  for  day  wages.  There  came 
later  another  change.  Within  a  year  I  heard  of  him 
as  a  judge  of  the  highest  court  in  one  of  the  most 
enterprising  of  our  Territories  whic  his  now  a  State. 
My  chance  acquaintance  is  its  Chief  Justice.  He 
occasionally  sends  me  a  copy  of  one  of  his  opinions, 
which  shows  that  he  is  equal  to  his  judicial  position 
and  that  he  fills  it  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  fellow- 
citizens. 

Very  recently  my  attention  was  called  to  an  article 
in  a  legal  magazine  on  "  The  Increase  of  Crime." 
It  was  written  by  a  Western  lawyer  of  ability  who 
had  been  cautious  and  industrious  in  the  collection 
of  his  statistics.  Some  of  them  may  surprise  the 
reader  as  they  did  me.  He  states  that  murders  are 
more  numerous  at  the  present  time  than  they  ever 
were  before;  that  the  record  of  murders  in  this 
country  for  the  six  years  1884  to  1889,  inclusive, 
gives  a  total  of  almost  fifteen  thousand — the  last  year 
exceeding  by  several  hundred  either  of  the  preceding 
years  in  the  number  of  lives  taken  by  violence.  It 
is  interesting  to  note  that  only  about  ten  per  cent  of 
these  murderers  were  legally  executed,  and  that  much 
the  larger  number  of  them  who  paid  the  penalty  of 
their  crimes  met  retributive  justice  at  the  hands  of 
Judge  Lynch.  Of  the  persons  charged  with  murder 
in  these  years  only  five  hundred  and  fifty-eight  were 


138  PERSONAL   EEMINISCENCES. 

legally  executed,  while  nine  hundred  and  seventy-five 
were  tynched. 

When  it  is  shown  that  in  a  period  of  six  years 
murder  was  legally  punished  only  in  about  one  case 
in  twenty-seven,  it  is  impossible  to  avoid  the  conclu 
sion  that  there  is  some  defect  in  our  legal  system.  I 
do  not  propose  here  to  discuss  the  cause  of  this  fail 
ure  of  justice ;  whether  it  is  due  to  the  maudlin  sym 
pathy  for  great  criminals  or  to  ineffective  prosecu 
tion  is  unimportant.  The  fact  remains  that  while  in 
new  and  especially  in  mining  communities  justice 
at  the  hands  of  the  people  is  swift  and  certain,  it 
fails  in  the  majority  of  cases  in  law-abiding  com 
munities. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ADIRONDACK  DAYS  —  UNTRIED  COMPANIONS  IN 
THE  WILDERNESS — THEIR  PERILS  AND  EXPE 
RIENCES. 

I  AM  to  write  of  the  past — of  days  that  will 
never  return  because  the  conditions  that  made  them 
delightful  can  never  be  reproduced.  I  was  inexperi 
enced  in  the  woods  in  1846  when  I  made  my  first 
visit  to  the  Adirondacks.  I  did  not  then  know  that 
in  the  forest  the  true  inwardness  of  man  was  revealed 
and  that  one  should  never  risk  association  there 
except  with  true  sportsmen  and  very  honest  men. 
But  I  was  an  apt  scholar — my  first  lesson  was  effec 
tive.  I  have  made  many  later  excursions  there,  but 
always  with  carefully  selected  associates. 

You  who  visit  the  Adirondack  region  now,  after 
vandal  hands  have  obstructed  the  outlets,  raised  the 
waters  and  killed  the  trees,  so  that  along  the  banks 
of  every  river  and  around  the  shores  of  every  lake 
there  is  a  row  of  whitened  skeletons  of  what  were 
once  the  verdant  glories  of  arboreal  life,  know  no 
more  of  the  original  beauty  of  that  scenery  of  moun 
tain,  lake,  tree,  and  river  than  he  who  looks  upon  the 
cold  marble  and  broken  arms  knows  of  the  warm 
glow  of  life  and  beauty  which  shone  in  the  living 
model  of  the  Venus  of  Milo. 

In  those  days  the  shores  of  Long  Lake  and  many 
others  bore  no  marks  of  the  hand  of  man.  The  trees 

139 


140  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

and  shrubs  covered  them  to  the  very  edge  of  the  clear 
water,  so  that  as  we  floated  along  the  surface  it  was 
impossible  to  distinguish  where  substance  ended  and 
shadow  began.  From  the  summit  of  Tahawus, 
scores  of  these  lakes  shone  like  jewels  of  purest 
emerald.  From  my  first  camp  on  the  high  western 
bank  just  above  the  outlet  of  Long  Lake,  looking 
eastward,  there  were  eight  well-defined  masses  of 
color,  from  the  silvery  sheen  of  the  lake  through 
shades  of  green  to  the  deep  blue  of  the  mountain 
summit.  It  was  a  vision  of  color. 

In  that  camp  I  lived  five  weeks  and  saw  no  human 
face  save  those  which  belonged  to  my  own  party. 
Then  a  saddle  of  venison,  a  brace  of  young  wood  or 
black  ducks,  or  a  half-dozen  of  ruffed  grouse  were  to 
be  had  in  an  hour's  shooting,  and  near  the  mouth  of 
Cold  River,  just  below  the  outlet,  a  couple  of  brook 
trout  of  four  pounds  weight  were  to  be  had  in  a 
cloudy  day  in  half  the  time.  Now  there  is  a  route 
of  summer  travel  through  the  lake  and  down  the 
river,  and  the  game  of  those  days  has  only  a  legen 
dary  existence.  Nowhere  in  landscape  scenery  have 
more  deplorable  changes  been  wrought  by  thirty 
years  of  vandalism. 

I  knew  no  better  then  than  to  permit  the  addition 
to  my  party  of  an  artist  with  a  masculine  Scotch 
wife  who  ruled  him  with  a  heavy  hand,  and  a  min 
ister  with  his  two  boys  of  fourteen  and  sixteen  years 
of  whom  I  knew  nothing.  A  chill  comes  over  me  as 
I  think  what  a  narrow  escape  I  had  from  committing 
a  felony  upon  those  boys.  They  were  unmannerly 
cubs  who  would  not  obey  their  father,  and  passed 
their  time  when  awake  in  howling  like  untamed 
hyenas.  They  were  nuisances — "from  night  till 


ADIRONDACK  DAYS.  141 

morn,  from  morn  till  dewy  eve."  I  got  rid  of  them 
at  Newcomb,  near  the  head  of  the  lake,  by  alarming 
their  father  with  the  well-founded  apprehension  that 
the  .Indian  guide  would  certainly  contrive  to  rid  the 
camp  of  them  by  accident  or  design. 

My  guides  were  Mitchell  Sabattis  and  Alonzo 
Wetherby.  Sabattis  was  a  St.  Francis  Indian,  a 
skilful  hunter,  and  became  afterward  one  of  the  finest 
characters  I  ever  knew.  At  that  time  he  got  howl 
ing  drunk  at  every  opportunity.  It  is  a  pleasure  to 
remember  that  he  always  attributed  his  reformation 
to  his  connection  with  me,  and  that  for  the  last  thirty 
years  of  his  life  he  was  a  kind  husband,  an  excellent 
father  to  worthy  children,  and  a  most  reputable  citi 
zen.  He  died  only  a  few  years  ago,  a  class-leader  in 
the  Methodist  Church,  universally  respected.  "  'Lon 
Wetherby"  was  an  equally  good  hunter,  a  giant  in 
strength  and  a  Yankee  by  birth.  To  hear  the  rich, 
liquid  sound  with  which  he  rolled  out  his  only  oath, 
"  By  Ga-u-u-11 !"  was  worth  a  journey  to  the  outlet  of 
Long  Lake. 

I  did  not  exist  five  weeks  in  a  camp  with  the  min 
ister  or  the  artist  and  his  Scotch  wife,  and  I  may  as 
well  here  describe  our  separation. 

I  wanted  to  have  a  personal  experience  in  floating 
for  deer.  The  night  after  we  reached  camp,  Sabattis 
made  his  "  jack"  to  carry  the  light  and  fitted  up  his 
boat  for  the  trial.  The  minister  wanted  to  go  with 
us.  He  "would  not  make  a  sound,"  he  said.  He 
would  lie  on  his  back  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat  and 
silently  watch  the  operation.  Mitchell  cautioned 
him  that  the  slightest  sound  would  destroy  all  our 
chances,  and  after  repeated  promises  of  absolute 
silence  we  took  him  along. 


142  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

We  placed  him  on  his  back  in  the  bottom  of  the 
boat,  where  he  was  not  to  speak  even  in  a  whisper. 
The  jack  or  light  was  in  the  bow  and  I  was  just  in 
its  rear.  Mitchell  sat  in  the  stern  and  paddled.  It 
was  a  weird  and  noiseless,  a  ghostly  performance,  as 
our  boat  crept  along  the  shore  without  breaking  the 
silence  of  the  wilderness.  The  falling  of  a  dead  tree 
on  the  flank  of  a  distant  mountain  woke  the  echoes 
along  the  shore  like  the  report  of  a  cannon.  The  note 
of  the  screech-owl  in  the  branches  overhead — the 
grating  of  a  rush  along  the  keel  of  the  boat,  alike 
started  the  blood  to  the  extremities.  Far  out  upon 
the  lake  was  heard  that  desolating  sound  at  mid 
night,  the  chattering  of  the  loon.  Overhead  the 
stars  shone  through  the  pure  atmosphere,  so  pure 
that  Venus  and  Jupiter  cast  shadows. 

We  had  been  out  but  a  few  minutes  when  we 
heard  the  threshing  of  some  large  animal  among  the 
lily-pads,  just  opposite  the  camp.  Silently  the  boat 
was  turned  in  that  direction,  and  I  knew  that  we 
were  approaching  my  first  deer.  My  gun  was  in  the 
hollow  of  my  arm — I  was  peering  into  the  darkness 
to  catch  the  first  reflection  of  the  light  upon  the  eyes 
of  the  noble  game,  which  was  to  be  my  signal  for  a 
shot,  when  like  a  bellow  from  a  bull  of  Bashan 
there  broke  from  the  bottom  of  the  boat  and  rolled 
out  upon  the  silence  of  the  night  the  words : 

"  Great  and  wonderful  are  Thy  works,  O — 

The  rush  of  a  noble  buck  as  he  bounded  across  the 
patch  of  light  into  the  forest  and  the  exclamation  of 
the  furious  Indian,  "Why  don't  you  shoot  his  fool 
head  off?"  met  a  strong  impulse  in  my  mind  to  do 
what  Mitchell  suggested.  But  I  restrained  myself 


ADIRONDACK  DAYS.  143 

to  the  inquiry,  "  How  many  kinds  of  a  fool  do  you 
suppose  you  are,  anyway?" 

He  was  profuse  in  apologies.  He  had  not  heard 
any  sound — he  was  so  overcome  by  the  glories  of  the 
starlit  sky  that  he  quite  forgot  himself — the  words 
escaped  from  his  mouth  involuntarily.  If  we  would 
now  go  on  he  was  certain  he  could  keep  quiet. 

"  There  is  no  deer  within  two  miles  of  Long  Lake 
now,"  said  Mitchell.  "That  sound  would  scare  the 
devil.  We  go  home — no  use  for  waste  time  to 
night." 

And  home  we  went  with  no  venison.  On  the  way 
I  told  the  parson  that  we  would  have  to  part  com 
pany  ;  that  Mitchell,  like  all  his  race,  was  of  an  un 
forgiving  nature ;  that  he  was  angry  and  might  be 
dangerous;  that  I  would  loan  him  "  'Lon  Wetherby" 
to  row  him  through  Catlin  Lake  to  Newcomb,  where 
he  might  perhaps  make  up  a  party  and  go  off  in 
another  direction.  He  was  much  frightened  and 
very  grateful.  I  gave  'Lon  his  directions,  and  when 
I  arose  the  next  morning  the  minister  had  departed 
and  I  saw  him  no  more. 

I  separated  from  the  artist  and  his  dreadful  wife 
on  this  wise.  Wishing  to  take  some  exercise,  on  the 
following  afternoon  I  took  one  of  the  boats  and  de 
termined  to  go  down  the  Raquette  River  to  the 
mouth  of  Moose  Creek  and  ascend  the  creek,  by  way 
of  exploration.  Sabattis  said  I  should  probably  see 
nothing,  but  it  was  always  well  on  such  an  explora 
tion  to  take  with  me  a  loaded  gun.  The  artist  wanted 
to  go  along  and  make  sketches,  and  I  took  him  on 
condition  that  he  was  not  under  any  circumstances 
to  utter  a  sound  or  interfere  with  me. 


144  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

I  rowed  down  to  the  mouth  of  the  creek,  shipped 
the  oars,  and  seated  myself  in  the  stern  to  paddle. 
My  double  gun  loaded  with  buckshot  cartridges 
lay  on  the  bottom  of  the  boat  within  easy  reach. 
The  artist  sat  on  the  rowing  seat  in  the  middle  of 
the  boat.  The  water  in  the  creek  was  very  low.  I 
paddled  slowly  up,  both  of  us  looking  forward. 

I  had  turned  a  sharp  point  about  half-way  up  the 
creek  and  was  opening  another,  projecting  from  the 
opposite  side,  when  on  its  extreme  end,  and  at 
least  fifty  yards  from  the  cover,  I  saw  extended  on  the 
sand  a  full-grown  black  bear.  Forcing  the  paddle 
into  the  sand,  I  had  stopped  the  boat  and  was  about 
to  reach  for  my  gun,  when  in  a  flash  bang !  bang ! 
went  both  its  barrels,  and  one  cartridge  hurtled  by 
within  a  few  inches  of  my  head. 

If  I  was  ever  furious  it  was  then!  The  bear  was 
not  thirty  yards  away — he  had  to  cross  the  gravel 
forty  yards  before  he  reached  the  bushes.  I  should 
certainly  have  planted  both  cartridges  in  his  vitals. 
He  was  in  no  haste.  After  the  painter  had  sent  the 
last  charge  wnizzing  past  my  head  in  the  opposite 
direction,  the  bear  stood  upon  his  feet,  shook  himself, 
and  deliberately  trotted  across  the  open  space  into 
the  bushes.  He  even  stopped  and  took  a  good  look 
at  us  before  he  disappeared. 

It  would  be  a  weak  expression  to  say  that  I  was 
discouraged.  It  was  useless  to  get  angry — I  could 
not  do  the  subject  of  that  artist  justice.  I  was  irri 
tated,  provoked,  exasperated.  After  my  experience 
of  last  evening  with  the  minister,  why  did  I  take 
any  chances  with  the  painter?  He  of  course  was 
arguing,  explaining,  apologizing,  expounding.  He 
had  been  excited — he  had  seized  the  gun  and  dis- 


ADIRONDACK  DAYS.  145 

charged  it  before  he  knew  what  he  was  doing.  He 
was  very  sorry — he  humbly  begged  my  pardon.  It 
should  not  occur  again ! 

"  Young  man !"  I  said  solemnly,  "  you  are  right. 
It  will  not  occur  again !  If  I  thought  there  was  any 
danger  that  it  would  I  do  not  know  what  I  might 
do.  Do  not  tempt  Providence  farther.  We  are  going 
back  to  the  camp,  and  you  must  prepare  to  leave  at 
once.  If  that  bear  should  meet  you  I  would  not 
give  a  farthing  for  your  life.  I  feel  like  making  an 
end  of  you  myself,  but  I  will  give  you  one  more 
chance  if  you  will  go  to-morrow."  He  went,  and 
his  wife  with  him.  Mitchell  left  them  in  a  lumber 
camp  and  returned  the  next  day.  Thank  fortune,  I 
never  saw  them  again ! 

We  were  much  in  need  of  venison.  We  were  ex 
pecting  company  and  there  was  no  fresh  meat  in  the 
camp.  One  rainy,  foggy  night,  Sabattis  and  myself 
went  to  the  same  Moose  Creek  to  try  for  a  deer. 
The  water  had  suddenly  risen  and  the  adjacent 
marshes  were  overflowed.  We  had  ascended  the 
creek  as  far  as  it  would  carry  our  boat  and  had  found 
nothing.  On  our  return  about  half-way  to  the  river, 
we  heard  a  deer.  He  was  standing  in  the  shallow 
water  on  the  marsh  and  outside  the  curtain  of  wil 
lows  which  grew  upon  the  bank.  Mitchell  stopped 
the  boat  opposite  where  he  stood,  so  near  that  we 
could  hear  him  chewing  the  leaves.  It  was  impos 
sible  to  get  a  sight  of  any  part  of  him.  If  we  made 
any  disturbance  he  was  certain  to  disappear  instantly 
in  the  darkness. 

Five  minutes  we  stood  endeavoring  to  pierce  that 
curtain  with  our  eyes.  Then  I  estimated  as  well  as 
I  could  his  height  above  the  water,  aimed  where  I 
10 


146  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

thought  his  chest  ought  to  be,  and  gave  him  one  bar 
rel.  Away  he  went  across  the  broad  marsh,  dashing 
through  the  water  until  he  reached  the  solid  ground, 
where  his  measured  gallop  grew  fainter,  until  to  my 
ear  it  was  no  longer  to  be  heard  on  account  of  the 
distance. 

"  Well !  we  have  lost  him,"  I  said,  in  a  tone  of  dis 
appointment.  "  I  am  sorry,  for  he  was  a  noble  buck. 
I  got  one  glance  at  his  antlers. " 

"How  can  we  lose  what  we  never  had?"  was 
Mitchell's  pertinent  inquiry.  "  But  we  will  have 
him  yet  before  daylight.  He  is  hard  hit  and  will 
not  run  very  far." 

"Why  do  you  say  that?"  I  asked.  "He  bounded 
away  in  a  very  lively  manner  as  if  he  was  uninjured." 

"For  two  reasons,"  he  answered.  "He  did  not 
snort  or  whistle  as  an  unwounded  deer  always  does 
when  suddenly  startled.  Then  one  of  his  fore-legs 
appeared,  by  the  sound,  to  be  crippled." 

He  pushed  the  boat  rapidly  across  the  marsh  to  the 
hard  ground,  and  with  the  light  in  his  hand¥  soon 
found  where  the  deer  had  passed  through  the  thick 
weeds  and  grasses.  "  It  is  all  right, "  he  said.  "  Here 
is  where  he  went  out,  and  it's  as  bloody  as  a  butcher's 
shop." 

I  came  near  where  he  stood.  "Show  me  the 
blood,"  I  said. 

"Why  there!  and  there!  and  there!  all  over! 
Don't  you  see  it?"  he  exclaimed. 

"  I  see  nothing  but  wet  leaves  and  bushes, "  I  re 
plied.  "  Now  stop  and  show  me  what  you  call  blood. " 

He  plucked  a  leaf  with  incurved  edges,  on  the  wet 
surface  of  which  there  was  a  discoloration  which  he 
said  was  blood.  "  It  is  as  plain  as  can  be,"  he  said; 


ADIRONDACK  DAYS.  147 

"  you  would  not  expect  a  wounded  buck  in  a  hurry 
to  stop  and  paint  a  United  States  flag  for  our  benefit. 
I  am  going  for  him,"  he  continued.  "You  stay 
in  the  boat  until  you  hear  a  shot,  which  may  mean 
that  I  have  found  him  or  that  I  have  given  him  up. 
Then  you  fire  a  pistol,  which  will  give  me  my  bear 
ings  and  save  time." 

With  the  lantern  in  one  hand  and  my  gun  in  the 
other,  he  disappeared  in  the  foggy  night.  How  long 
I  lay  stiffening  in  the  boat  or  stamped  along  the 
shore  in  an  effort  to  keep  my  blood  in  circulation,  I 
do  not  know.  But  after  what  seemed  hours  of  weary 
waiting,  away  up  on  the  side  of  the  mountain  I 
heard  the  faint  report  of  a  gun.  I  fired  the  revolver 
in  answer  and  waited  again  until  I  heard  something 
threshing  down  the  hill. 

"Is  that  you,  Mitchell?"  I  shouted. 

"Yes,  "he  answered.  "I  have  got  him.  He  is  a 
splendid  buck;  not  too  old  and  in  prime  condition. 
He  will  provision  the  camp  for  a  week. " 

He  now  appeared,  dragging  the  deer  after  him. 

"  How  did  you  find  him?"  I  asked. 

"  I  followed  his  track  over  the  wet  leaves,"  he  an 
swered.  "  Where  he  stopped  the  spot  was  marked 
by  a  pool  of  blood.  These  were  nearer  together  as 
we  went  up  the  hill.  Finally  I  overtook  him.  He 
was  standing  with  his  head  down  and  I  saw  he  had 
been  hard  hit.  I  held  the  jack  in  one  hand  and  shot 
him  with  the  gun  held  in  the  other." 

Mark,  now,  what  this  Indian  had  done.  His  ear 
had  detected  an  injury  to  one  of  the  animal's  fore 
legs.  In  the  dark  and  rainy  night,  by  the  light  of  the 
"jack,"  he  had  found  his  path  out  of  the  marsh,  had 
followed  it  over  fallen  trees,  through  the  thick  brush- 


148  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

wood,  a  mile  or  more  up  the  steep  hillside,  until  he 
had  overtaken  the  wounded  deer,  and  holding  the 
light  in  one  hand  and  the  gun  in  the  other  had  given 
him  the  fatal  shot.  Such  a  story  seems  incredible. 
Had  I  not  seen  the  results  I  think  I  would  not  myself 
believe  it. 

We  reached  our  camp  just  as  the  sun  was  climb 
ing  over  the  tops  of  the  eastern  mountains.  The 
yellow  fog  retreated  before  it — the  green  of  the  forest, 
the  blue  of  the  lake,  and  the  gold  of  the  sun  united 
in  a  landscape  of  glorious  beauty,  which  drove  the 
chill  from  our  bodies  and  the  weariness  from  our 
limbs. 

When  the  deer  was  dressed  it  was  found  that  my 
cartridge  had  struck  his  shoulder-blade  in  an  oblique 
direction.  Every  shot  save  one  had  glanced  outward 
—that  one  had  passed  through  his  vitals  and  would 
have  ultimately  proved  fatal. 

No  account  of  the  Adirondacks  would  be  complete 
without  a  fish-story.  Mine  runs  after  this  wise.  I 
had  made  preparations  and  had  great  expectations. 
I  had  fly-rods  and  bass-rods  and  reels,  books  of  flies, 
bait  in  imitation  of  all  the  monstrous  and  Impossi 
ble  animals  which  the  trout  are  reputed  to  fancy. 
But  the  display  did  not  excite  the  enthusiasm  of 
either  of  my  guides — on  the  contrary,  they  appeared 
to  view  it  with  contempt.  The  bass-rod,  which  had 
no  elasticity  and  which  was  strong  enough  to  lift 
fifty  pounds  at  the  tip,  and  a  gaudy  scarlet  ibis  fly 
they  thought  might  answer,  but  a  tamarack  pole  and 
"worms  for  bait"  were  preferable.  The  remainder 
of  the  lay-out  was  trash  except  a  six-ounce  thirty-dol 
lar  fly-rod  which  "  might  answer  as  well  as  a  hand- 
line  to  catch  minnows !"  Such  was  the  lesson  admin- 


ADIRONDACK  DAYS.  149 

istered  to  my  fisherman's  pride  when  I  handed  over 
to  them  my  costly  outfit  and  asked  them  to  select 
what  was  adapted  to  Adirondack  fishing. 

For  several  days  they  seemed  disinclined  to  fish. 
One  day  the  sun  was  too  bright,  the  next  was  too 
dark ;  one  day  was  too  hot,  the  next  too  chilly,  until 
I  began  to  despair  of  finding  a  day  suited  for  fishing 
in  the  Adirondack  wilderness. 

But  a  day  came  when  Mitchell  said  with  Peter,  "  I 
go  a-fishing,"  and  like  one  of  the  other  disciples  I 
said,  "I  go  with  you."  It  was  a  yellow  afternoon, 
when  the  clouds  seemed  to  intercept  the  rays  but  not 
the  color  of  the  sun.  He  selected  the  rod  which 
had  landed  striped  bass  and  bluefish  on  Pasque  Island, 
a  heavy  line  and  the  large  hook  with  the  scarlet  fly, 
also  a  tamarack  pole  and  a  box  of  earth-worms  for 
emergencies.  "  He  didn't  care  to  fish  himself — I 
would  get  enough  if  the  trout  was  anyways  lively." 

About  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  as  the  sun 
was  sinking  in  the  west  below  the  crest  of  Buck 
Mountain,  he  rowed  me  down  to  the  mouth  of  Cold 
River,  ascended  the  stream  to  a  place  where  it 
widened  into  a  broad  pool  with  bold  shores,  tied  his 
boat  to  an  alder,  and  proceeded  to  fill  and  light  his 
pipe.  I  had  meantime  taken  the  rod  from  its  case, 
jointed  it  and  arranged  the  line,  and  reel,  with  three 
or  four  buckshot  on  the  line,  without  which  a  cast 
of  twenty  feet  with  that  rod  could  not  have  been 
made.  Mitchell  attached  the  fly,  and  pointing  to  a 
dcaying  stump  on  the  bank  said :  "  Under  that  stump 
ought  to  be  a  good  place  for  a  trout." 

I  made  the  cast.  The  moment  the  fly  struck  the 
water  the  surface  in  the  vicinity  was  seething  like  a 
whirlpool.  There  was  a  vicious  jerk  on  the  line,  and 


150  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

the  reel  hummed  like  a  buzz-saw  as  thirty  yards  of 
the  line  ran  out.  As  I  checked  the  fish  he  rushed 
past  the  boat  within  reach  of  Mitchell's  landing-net. 
He  made  one  sweep  and  a  five-pound  brook  trout  lay 
panting  in  the  boat,  my  first  fish  in  the  Adirondacks. 
What  followed  was  mere  repetition.  Every  time 
the  fly  struck  the  water  a  half-dozen  trout  leaped  to 
seize  it.  My  tackle  was  strong,  and  Mitchell  looked 
upon  playing  the  fish  as  a  waste  of  time.  In  a  short 
half -hour  five  brook  trout  lay  in  our  boat  side  by 
side,  weighing  a  little  more  than  twenty  pounds.  It 
was  enough  to  supply  our  table.  I  would  not  com 
mit  the  crime  of  killing  such  splendid  game  for 
which  we  had  no  use.  That  short  half -hour  was  an 
era  in  my  life.  The  uniformity  of  size  and  weight, 
I  suppose,  arose  from  the  fact  that  all  the  trout  were 
full-grown. 

In  those  delightful  five  weeks  I  formed  an  attach 
ment  for  these  guides  which  lasted  as  long  as  they 
lived.  From  Wetherby,  and  later  from  others,  I 
learned  that  Sabattis  was  a  generous  fellow  whom 
every  one  liked,  but  he  would  get  drunk  upon  every 
opportunity,  and  then  he  was  a  madman.  His  wife 
was  a  worthy  white  woman.  They  had  five  children. 
The  sons  were  as  skilled  in  woodcraft  as  their  father 
and  inherited  the  excellent  qualities  of  their  mother. 
One  of  them  grew  up  with  the  figure  of  Apollo, 
and  when  I  last  saw  him  I  thought  that  physically  he 
was  the  most  perfect  man  I  had  ever  seen. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  STORY  OF  MITCHELL  SABATTIS. 

I  SPENT  my  last  night  at  Mitchell's  home  in  New- 
comb,  where  a  conveyance  from  Elizabethtown  was 
to  meet  me.  Mitchell  and  his  wife  appeared  de 
pressed  by  some  impending  calamity.  I  made  them 
tell  me  their  trouble.  There  was  a  mortgage  upon 
their  home  and  little  farm.  It  was  due,  the  property 
was  to  be  sold  about  four  weeks  later,  and  they  saw 
no  way  of  avoiding  this,  to  them,  ruinous  result.  If 
his  home  was  sold,  Mitchell's  habits  would  be  worse 
than  ever. 

Mitchell's  wife  assured  me  that  he  was  proud  of 
the  fact  that  he  had  never  broken  his  word ;  she  said 
he  was  a  kind  husband,  and  if  she  could  induce  him 
to  promise  not  to  drink,  she  would  even  be  reconciled 
to  the  loss  of  her  home. 

The  next  morning  when  the  horses  were  at  the 
door  and  I  was  about  to  leave,  I  called  Mitchell  and 
his  wife  into  their  little  "square  room,"  seated  my 
self  between  them,  and  asked : 

"  Mitchell,  what  would  you  give  to  one  who  would 
buy  your  mortgage  and  give  you  time  in  which  to 
pay  it?" 

"I  would  give  my  life,"  he  exclaimed,  "the  day 
after  I  had  paid  the  debt.  I  would  give  it  now  if  I 
could  leave  this  little  place  to  my  Bessie  and  her 
children." 

151 


152  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

"  It  will  not  cost  you  so  much  as  that,"  I  said.  "  I 
am  going  to  Elizabeth  town.  I  shall  buy  or  pay  your 
mortgage.  Your  home  will  not  be  sold.  On  the 
morning  of  the  second  day  of  August  of  next  year,  I 
want  you  and  "Lon'  with  your  boats  to  meet  me  at 
Bartlett's,  between  the  Upper  and  Lower  Saranac 
Lakes.  If  you  there  tell  me  that  you  have  not  drunk 
a  glass  of  strong  liquor  since  I  saw  you  last,  your 
mortgage  shall  not  trouble  you  so  long  as  you  will 
keep  your  promise  not  to  drink.  If  you  break  your 
promise  I  do  not  know  what  I  shall  do,  but  I  shall 
lose  all  my  confidence  in  Mitchell  Sabattis.  Your 
wife  and  children  will  not  be  driven  from  their  home 
until  you  get  drunk  again." 

He  promised  instantly,  solemnly.  He  rose  from 
his  chair.  I  thought  he  looked  every  inch  the  chief 
which  by  birth  he  claimed  to  be  as  he  said :  "  You' 
may  think  you  cannot  trust  me,  but  you  can !  Sabat 
tis  when  he  was  sober  never  told  a  lie.  He  will 
never  lie  to  his  friend." 

For  a  few  minutes  there  was  in  that  humble  room 
a  very  touching  scene.  The  Indian  silent,  solemn, 
but  for  the  speaking  arm  thrown  lovingly  around 
the  neck  of  his  wife,  apparently  emotionless— the  wife 
trying  to  say  through  her  tears — "I  told  you  you 
could  trust  Mitchell !  He  will  keep  his  promise — he 
will  never  get  drunk  again.  I  know  him  so  well ! 
I  am  certain  that  he  will  not  drink,  and  we  shall  be 
so  happy.  Oh !  I  am  the  happiest  woman  alive !" 

"Well!  well!"  I  said,  "let  us  hope  for  the  best; 
we  must  wait  and  see.  Mitchell,  remember  the 
2d  of  next  August — Bartlett's — and  in  the  mean 
time  no  whiskey !"  And  so  we  parted. 

I  bought,  took  an  assignment  of  the  mortgage  and 


THE  STORY  OF  MITCHELL  SABATTIS.         153 

carried  it  to  my  home.  Other  duties  occupied  me, 
and  Sabattis  had  long  been  out  of  my  mind.  One 
evening  late  in  the  following  February,  just  at  night 
fall,  I  was  watching  the  falling  snow  from  my  library 
window  in  Burlington,  when  a  singular  conveyance 
stopped  almost  in  front  of  my  door.  It  was  a  long, 
unpainted  sled,  the  runners  hewn  from  natural  crooks, 
with  stakes  some  five  feet  high  inclosing  an  oblong 
box  of  rough  boards,  -to  which  were  harnessed  two 
unmatched  horses.  The  driver  travelled  by  the  side 
of  the  horses,  carrying  a  long  gad  of  unpainted 
wood  having  no  lash.  He  wore  a  cap  and  coat  of 
bear-skin,  which  concealed  his  features. 

Taking  him  to  be  some  stranger  who  had  lost  his 
way,  I  went  to  his  assistance.  As  I  made  some  ob 
servation,  a  voice  deep  down  inside  the  bear-skin 
said:  "Why!  it's  Mr.  Chittenden.  I  was  looking 
for  you  and  your  house." 

"  Mitchell  Sabattis !"  I  exclaimed.  "  In  the  name 
of  all  that  is  astonishing,  what  are  you  doing  here?" 

For  a  moment  he  made  no  answer.  As  I  came 
nearer  his  arms  worked  strangely,  as  if  he  would  like 
to  throw  them  around  me.  His  voice  was  tremulous 
as  he  said :  "  I  am  so  glad.  I  was  af eared  I  should 
not  find  you — this  town  is  so  big  and  there  are  so 
many  houses  and  men  and  roads.  I  was  looking  for 
a  place  where  they  would  feed  and  take  in  the 
horses." 

"  But  what  has  brought  you  here,  a  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  from  your  home  in  Newcomb?" 

"Yes!  yes!  We  have  been  very  lucky  this  fall 
and  winter.  My  wife  said  I  had  better  come.  I 
have  had  good  fortune.  Sold  all  my  furs  and  my 
saddles  of  venison  for  money.  Just  now  the  season 


154  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

is  over  and  I  had  nothing  to  do.  So  we  talked  it 
over,  my  wife  Bessie  and  me.  You  remember 
Bessie.  Somehow  I  can't  get  the  right  words.  I 
would  like  to  tell  you  to-morrow.  Do  you  know  of 
some  place  where  they  would  take  in  the  horses?" 

"But  what  is  this  sled  loaded  with?" 

"  Nothing — much.  Only  a  little  game  for  you.  I 
will  tell  you  all  about  it  to-morrow." 

I  went  with  him  to  a  stable  where  his  horses  were 
taken  in  and  his  load  put  under  lock  and  key.  I  took 
him  to  my  house,  although  he  protested  that  he  had 
his  own  supplies  and  could  just  as  well  stay  in  the 
stable.  His  personal  neatness,  his  civility,  and  the 
oddity  of  his  expressions  delighted  every  member  of 
my  household.  A  warm  supper  and  a  like  welcome 
soon  opened  his  heart,  and  I  gathered  from  him  the 
following  details : 

Good  fortune  had  attended  him  from  the  time 
when  he  was  relieved  from  anxiety  about  the  mort 
gage.  He  had  employment  as  a  guide  until  the  sea 
son  for  trapping  and  shooting  for  market  began.  He 
had  never  killed  so  many  deer  nor  got  so  good  prices 
in  money  for  venison.  He  had  paid  all  his  little  debts 
and  saved  one  hundred  dollars,  which  his  wife  said  he 
ought  to  bring  to  me.  They  thought  I  would  like  a 
little  game.  So  he  had  built  a  sled,  borrowed  two 
horses,  made  up  a  little  load,  and  he  had  travelled 
that  long  and  hard  road  from  the  head  of  Long 
Lake  to  Crown  Point  and  thence  to  Burlington,  not 
less  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles. 

A  refusal  of  his  gift  was  not  to  be  thought  of. 
The  next  morning  I  took  my  butcher  to  his  little 
load  of  game.  There  were  the  saddles  or  hind  quar 
ters  of  twenty-five  fat  deer  in  their  skins,  two  car- 


THE  STORY  OF  MITCHELL  SABATTIS.         155 

casses  of  black  bear  dressed  and  returned  to  their 
skins,  the  skin  of  a  magnificent  catamount,  with  the 
skull  and  claws  attached,  which  he  had  heard  me  say 
I  would  like  to  have,  a  half-dozen  skins  of  the  beau 
tiful  fur  of  the  pine  marten  or  the  American  sable, 
more  than  one  hundred  pounds  of  brook  trout,  ten 
dozen  of  ruffed  grouse  all  dressed  and  braided  into 
bunches  of  a  half-dozen,  and  some  smaller  game,  with 
some  specimen  skins  of  the  mink  and  fox.  There 
was  more  game  than  my  family  could  have  con 
sumed  in  a  year. 

I  selected  a  liberal  supply  of  the  game  and  took  the 
skins  intended  for  myself  and  family.  For  the  bal 
ance  my  butcher  paid  him  liberally,  and  this  money 
with  his  savings  would  have  more  than  paid  his 
mortgage.  But  I  would  not  so  soon  lose  my  hold 
upon  him.  He  had  told  me  that  if  he  could  build 
an  addition  to  his  house  his  wife  could  keep  four 
boarders  while  he  was  guiding  in  the  summer.  I 
induced  him  to  save  money  enough  for  this  addition, 
and  to  purchase  the  furniture  then  and  there.  He 
paid  the  interest  and  costs  and  a  part  of  the  princi 
pal  of  his  mortgage,  and  went  home  loaded  with 
presents  for  Bessie  and  the  children — a  very  happy 
man. 

On  the  2d  of  August,  this  time  with  two  gen 
tlemen  and  their  wives,  all  safe  companions  in  rough 
ing  it,  as  we  approached  the  landing  at  Bartlett's, 
Mitchell  and  Alonzo  were  waiting  for  us.  There 
was  no  need  to  ask  Mitchell  if  he  had  kept  his  prom 
ise.  His  eye  was  as  clear  and  keen  as  that  of  a 
goshawk.  The  muscles  visible  in  their  action  under 
his  transparent  dark  skin,  his  voice,  ringing  with 
cheerfulness,  all  told  of  a  healthy  body  and  a  sound 


156  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

mind.  His  wife,  he  said,  had  her  house  filled  with 
boarders,  his  oldest  son  had  been  employed  as  a  guide 
for  the  entire  season,  and  prosperity  shone  upon  the 
Sabattis  household. 

Where  should  we  go?  I  consulted  him  about  the 
location  of  our  camp.  He  said  that "  'Lon"  and  him 
self  knew  what  kind  of  a  place  we  wanted.  We 
didn't  want  visitors  or  black  flies — we  wanted  a 
beautiful  location,  with  mountains,  lakes,  brooks, 
and  springs,  with  abundance  of  game.  Himself  and 
"  'Lon"  knew  such  a  place — they  had  left  home,  built 
a  camp  for  us  there,  and  if  we  would  make  a  long 
day  of  it  they  would  row  us  there  at  once. 

This  chapter  is  already  too  long.  I  have  no  time 
to  tell  of  the  beauty  of  our  camp,  the  abundance  of 
the  game,  the  sympathy  of  all  our  party,  the  fawn 
we  caught,  tamed  and  enjoyed,  and  left  in  its  native 
woods,  and  the  fidelity  of  our  guides  which  made 
those  weeks  a  green  oasis  in  all  our  lives.  Nor  can 
I  describe  the  subsequent  lives  of  those  guides. 
Wetherby,  one  of  the  strongest  men  I  ever  knew  and 
of  unexceptionable  habits,  died  of  a  fever  in  the  fol 
lowing  year. 

My  destiny  led  me  far  away  from  the  Adiron- 
dacks.  The  last  I  had  heard  from  Mitchell  was 
when  he  sent  me  a  draft  on  New  York  for  considera 
bly  more  than  the  balance  due  upon  his  mortgage. 
The  locality  had  become  too  easy  of  access — visitors 
were  too  numerous.  It  had  so  few  attractions  that 
I  did  not  visit  it  for  many  years.  But  in  1885  the 
old  feeling  came  over  me,  and  with  such  of  my 
family  as  had  not  gone  out  from  me  into  homes  of 
their  own,  I  went  to  a  new  and  fashionable  hotel 
some  thirty  miles  from  Long  Lake.  From  an  old 


THE  STORY  OF  MITCHELL  SABATTIS.         157 

resident  who  knew  it  thoroughly  I  had  the  subse 
quent  history  of  Mitchell  Sabattis.  He  had  never 
broken  his  promise  to  me.  He  united  with  the  Meth 
odist  Church  and  became  one  of  its  leaders,  and  in  a 
few  years  was  the  leading  citizen  in  the  Long  Lake 
settlement.  In  worldly  matters  he  prospered.  His 
wife  kept  a  favorite  resort  for  summer  visitors. 
Their  children  were  educated,  the  daughters  married 
well — two  of  the  sons  served  their  country  with  cour 
age  and  gallantry  through  the  war,  returned  home 
un wounded  with  honorable  discharges,  and  now 
guided  in  summer  and  built  the  celebrated  Adiron 
dack  boats  in  the  winter.  Mitchell,  now  a  hale  and 
healthy  veteran  of  eighty-four  years,  still  lived  at 
Long  Lake  in  the  very  house  of  which  I  was  once  the 
mortgagee. 

The  next  morning  I  heard  a  light  step  on  the  un- 
carpeted  hall  and  a  knock  at  my  door.  I  opened  it 
and  Sabattis  entered.  He  was  as  glad  to  see  me  as  I 
was  to  grasp  his  true  and  honest  hand.  But  I  was 
profoundly  surprised.  Had  the  world  with  him 
stood  still?  He  did  not  look  a  day  older  than  when 
I  last  saw  him,  more  than  twenty-five  years  ago. 
The  same  keen,  clear  eye,  transparent  skin  with  the 
play  of  the  muscles  under  it,  the  same  elastic  step, 
ringing  voice  and  kindly  heart.  His  eye  was  not 
dim  nor  his  natural  force  abated.  We  spent  a 
memorable  day  together — at  nightfall  we  parted 
forever.  Not  long  afterward  he  died  full  of  years, 
full  of  honors,  that  noblest  work  of  God,  an  honest 
man. 

Reader !  this  is  not  a  "  short  story"  and  it  is  not 
a  novel.  It  is  a  true  story,  and  of  course  has  its 
moral,  which  is  that  a  kind  word  or  an  inexpensive 


158  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

favor  may  sometimes  save  a  fellow-creature  and 
change  him  into  a  useful  man.  To  him  who  be 
stows  either,  I  could  not  wish  a  more  delightful 
memory  than  that  of  my  relations  with  Mitchell 
Sabattis. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  ADIRONDACK  REGION — A  WARNING  TO   THE 
DESTROYER— A  PLEA  FOR  THE  PERISHING. 

THE  Adirondack  region  is  an  uneven  plateau,  hav 
ing  an  average  elevation  about  eighteen  hundred  feet 
above  the  sea- level,  in  area  nearly  equal  to  the  three 
States  of  New  Hampshire,  Vermont,  and  Massachu 
setts.  Its  crystalline  rocks  preceded,  its  sandstones 
witnessed  the  dawn  of  animal  life  upon  the  Western 
Continent.  Its  mountains  are  loftier  than  any  east 
of  the  Father  of  the  Waters.  Its  rivers  are  num 
bered  by  fifties,  its  lakes  by  hundreds.  Away  back 
in  primordial  times  the  forces  of  nature  raised  its 
surface  into  the  dominion  of  monthly  frosts,  unfitted 
it  for  agriculture  and  pasturage,  and  restricted  it  to 
the  growth  of  evergreens  and  deciduous  trees,  dwarfed 
upon  its  peaks  but  reaching  an  average  height  in  its 
valleys  and  on  its  sheltered  plains.  God  made  it, 
not  for  the  habitation  of  man  but  for  that  of  the 
natural  occupants  of  the  forest,  lake,  and  river.  In 
his  economy  it  was  most  useful  to  man  when  its 
original  condition  was  maintained.  If  the  great 
cities  of  a  numerous  people  were  to  be  built  on  the 
waterways  of  a  mighty  commerce,  all  the  greater 
necessity  that  here  should  be  a  great  preserve  in 
fact  as  well  as  in  name.  It  was  the  natural  home  of 
all  the  land  and  fresh-water  animals  of  the  forty- 
fifth  parallel.  The  call  of  the  great  moose  was  com- 

159 


160  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

mon  in  the  swamps  and  marshes — the  red  deer  would 
have  exhausted  the  grasses  and  tender  shrubs  had 
not  their  numbers  been  repressed  by  the  panther  and 
the  gray  wolf.  The  black  bear  fattened  upon  the 
beechnuts.  The  industrious  beaver  built  his  dam 
upon  streams  fished  by  the  mink  and  the  otter.  The 
fisher,  the  pine  marten,  the  fox  and  other  fur-bearing 
animals  ranged  the  more  elevated  lands;  ducks  and 
geese  of  many  species  and  other  migratory  birds 
made  their  semi-annual  visits,  and  some  remained  to 
raise  their  young.  The  partridge  drummed  upon  the 
fallen  tree-trunks,  flights  of  passenger-pigeons  ob 
scured  the  sun.  The  lunge  fattened  on  the  fresh 
water  shrimps,  the  savage  pike  and  omnivorous 
pickerel  pursued  the  beautiful  brook  trout  up  the 
silvery  streams.  The  smaller  animals  and  birds 
abounded.  As  a  rural  poet  sang  in  those  early 
days — 

"  The  pigeon,  goose  and  duck,  they  fill  our  beds, 
The  beaver,  coon  and  fox,  they  crown  our  heads, 
The  harmless  moose  and  deer  are  food  and  clothes  to  wear, 
Nature  could  do  no  more  for  any  land. " 

In  the  economy  of  nature  this  region  had  another 
and  an  inestimable  value.  It  was  the  water  reser 
voir  for  a  part  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  Champlain 
valleys,  but  especially  for  the  Hudson  River  and  the 
great  cities  which  were  to  rise  upon  its  banks.  And 
it  was  as  complete  as  the  works  of  the  Great  Archi 
tect  always  are.  The  vapors  borne  against  the  flanks 
of  its  numerous  mountains  were  condensed  and  pre 
cipitated  in  the  daily  rains  of  summer  and  the  snows 
of  winter.  The  surface  was  shaded  and  covered  by 
forest  trees  everywhere  throwing  out  rootlets,  which, 


DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  FOREST.  161 

penetrated  and  swollen  by  frosts,  widened  the  crevices 
in  the  rocks  below.  The  decaying  leaves  of  succes 
sive  seasons  spread  a  soft,  thick  cushion  over  the 
soil.  The  snows  fell  to  great  depths ;  protected  from 
wind  and  sun,  they  remained  for  a  long  time,  and 
when  they  slowly  dissolved  followed  every  fibre  and 
rootlet  down  to  the  lowest  depths  of  every  rock  fis 
sure  or  cavity.  The  soil  became  a  gigantic  sponge, 
saturated  with  moisture,  expelling  its  surplus  waters, 
not  in  destructive  inundations,  but  by  slow  percola 
tion,  into  the  streams,  maintaining  them  at  full 
banks,  and  finally  creating  the  noble  river  which 
might  be  navigated  for  sixty  leagues  by  the  navies 
of  the  world. 

Forty  years  ago  was  there  no  New  York  legislator 
who  had  heard  of  the  Roman  marshes,  those  deadly 
fever  beds  where  once  was  grown  the  breadstuffs  of 
Rome  when  she  was  mistress  of  the  world?  Was 
there  no  student  of  history  who  knew  that  where  the 
Roman  farmer  bred  his  son  to  wield  the  Roman 
short-sword  he  would  now  perish  by  a  night's  ex 
posure?  Had  no  traveller  seen  the  naked  rocks  after 
the  vineyards  of  Southern  France  had  been  swept 
into  the  sea?  Was  there  none  who  knew  of  the 
foresight  of  Holland  when  she  made  herself  poor  to 
build  her  dykes  and  control  the  waters  of  the  North 
Sea?  No !  no !  The  pen  hesitates  to  tell  the  story 
of  their  negligence  or  to  record  with  what  silly  con 
tempt  they  spurned,  threw  away,  and  refused  to  pre 
serve  the  blessings  of  Almighty  God. 

The  vandalism  originated  in  the  Champlain  Val 
ley.  Far  up  the  Ausable,  on  a  little  stream  that  came 
down  from  the  mountains,  there  was  a  small  furnace 
which  used  charcoal  as  a  fuel.  The  country  black- 
11 


162  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

smiths  began  to  use  its  iron.  It  was  almost  as  good, 
they  said,  as  Swedish  iron.  They  made  it  into  horse 
shoes;  then  into  nails  for  the  horse-shoes.  Then  it 
was  made  into  nails  for  ordinary  building  purposes, 
and  there  proved  to  be  not  an  insignificant  profit  in  its 
manufacture. 

The  reputation  of  the  charcoal  iron  spread,  new 
furnaces  were  built,  and  the  small  village  of  Clinton- 
ville  became  the  great  nail  factory  of  the  north  coun 
try.  The  smoke  of  coal-pits  covered  the  land.  The 
trees  were  swept  away  as  if  some  gigantic  scythe- 
bearer  had  mowed  it  over.  In  a  few  years  there  was 
no  charcoal  to  be  had  at  paying  prices.  Then  the 
furnaces  ceased  operations,  and  where  the  forest  had 
stood  were  huckleberry  plains,  where  the  berries 
were  picked  by  Canadian-French  habit ans.  One 
may  travel  now  for  miles  in  that  region  and  not  find 
a  tree  large  enough  to  make  a  respectable  fish-pole. 

Next  came  like  an  army  of  destruction  the  first  in 
vasion  of  the  lumbermen.  Pine  lumber  increased  in 
value.  These  lands  could  be  cheaply  purchased  at  the 
sales  for  taxes,  stripped  of  their  accessible  pines  and 
then  abandoned  to  the  State  for  another  tax  sale. 
Only  the  best  trees  were  felled;  their  tops  and 
branches  were  left  where  they  fell.  The  logs  were 
run  down  to  the  mills  in  the  high  water  of  spring. 

The  pines  near  the  rivers  were  quickly  exhausted. 
Then  some  enemy  of  the  region  put  a  scheme  into 
the  minds  of  the  lumbermen,  which  resulted  in  in 
calculable  injury.  It  was  to  dam  the  outlets — raise 
the  water  in  the  lakes  so  as  to  reach  the  pines  upon 
their  shores.  The  first  dam  was  upon  tho  Raquette 
River  to  raise  the  water  in  Big  Tupper  Lake.  Dams 
at  the  outlet  of  Long  Lake,  Blue  Mountain,  Uta- 


DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  FOREST.  163 

wanna,  Raquette,  and  many  others  speedily  followed. 
There  was  a  noble  grove  of  pines  on  the  high  west 
bank  of  Long  Lake  just  above  the  outlet.  The  year 
after  the  dam  was  built  their  trunks  had  disap 
peared.  Their  tops  and  branches  were  left  on  the 
ground  to  die  and  to  decay. 

It  has  been  stated  elsewhere  that  the  arboreal 
growth  of  the  lakes  quite  down  to  the  ordinary  water- 
level  constituted  one  of  the  principal  beauties  of  the 
virgin  landscape.  The  lake  shores  were  generally 
precipitous  and  the  natural  rise  and  fall  of  the  waters 
produced  almost  no  effect  upon  the  vegetation.  The 
silvery  waters  everywhere  appeared  to  be  framed  in 
a  setting  of  vivid  green.  But  there  were  places 
along  the  rivers  as  well  as  the  lakes  where  there 
were  marshes  covered  with  trees,  the  surface  of 
which  was  overflowed  by  a  slight  rise  of  the  waters. 
When  the  dams  were  constructed  the  water  was  per 
manently  raised  so  as  to  overflow  these  marshes  and 
a  narrow  piece  of  even  the  most  precipitous  shores. 
This  permanent  overflow  destroyed  the  life  of  every 
tree  and  shrub  where  it  existed.  The  setting  of  em 
erald  green  was  replaced  by  dead  trees  which  covered 
the  marshes  or  stood  around  the  lake,  white  and 
deathly,  like  armies  of  grinning  skeletons,  presiding 
over  new  sources  of  contamination  and  decay. 

Great  injury  to  the  whole  region  swiftly  followed 
these  obstructions.  That  caused  by  fires  was  the  most 
extensive.  The  tree- tops  and  branches  left  by  the 
lumbermen  became  dry  and  combustible.  Careless 
visitors  left  the  fires  burning  in  their  temporary 
camps,  which  spread  over  townships,  destroying  the 
whole  arboreal  growth.  The  fires  followed  the  dry 
roots  deep  into  the  ground  and  rock  crevices,  and 


164  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

nothing  but  continuous  rains  that  saturated  the  soil 
could  extinguish  them.  Other  fires  were  caused  by 
lightning.  The  entire  profits  of  the  lumber  would 
not  have  compensated  for  the  injury  caused  by  these 
conflagrations. 

This  elevated  region  with  its  pure  atmosphere  had 
long  been  celebrated  for  its  healthful  influences.  It 
would  have  been  a  great  sanitarium  but  for  gross 
violations  of  hygienic  laws.  Not  long  after  the  gen 
eral  obstruction  of  the  streams,  the  scattered  resi 
dents  and  their  families  began  to  fall  sick  with 
typhoid  and  intermittent  fevers.  Many  died.  The 
local  physicians  declared  that  they  could  not  under 
stand  the  origin  of  these  diseases.  The  cause  was 
not  far  to  seek.  The  broad  acres  covered  with  slack- 
water,  the  masses  of  organic  matter  left  to  ferment 
and  putrefy  beneath  it,  generating  poisonous  gases 
to  corrupt  the  atmosphere,  were  such  efficient  causes 
of  disease  that  it  would  have  been  a  wonder  if  these 
fevers  had  not  prevailed.  They  still  prevail.  They 
are  epidemic  every  summer.  During  the  last  sum 
mer,  when  the  great  stream  of  pleasure  travel  was 
traversing  the  region,  it  passed  many  hamlets  of 
fever- stricken  patients.  And  these  fearful  scourges 
will  continue  to  sweep  off  the  inhabitants  and  to  be 
a  menace  to  every  visitor  until  the  laws  of  nature 
are  respected  and  the  causes  of  these  diseases  are 
removed. 

The  prospect  of  now  preserving  the  Adirondack 
country  to  the  uses  of  its  creation,  for  which  it  is  so 
admirably  fitted,  is  very  remote.  The  increased  de 
mand  for  spruce  and  hemlock  lumber,  for  maple,  ash, 
and  other  woods  for  the  interiors  of  buildings,  and 
the  enormous  consumption  of  wood  pulp,  are  con- 


DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  FOREST.  1C5 

stantly  creating  new  demands  upon  the  forest,  mak 
ing  new  appeals  to  human  cupidity.  But  Nature 
never  pardons,  never  fails  to  punish  a  violation  of 
her  laws.  A  time  will  come  when  some  great 
calamity  will  fall  upon  the  people  and  awaken  their 
legislators  to  the  necessity  of  protecting  what  shall 
then  remain  of  this  great  preserve. 

I  may  have  said  enough;  but  my  pen  clings  to 
the  topic,  and  I  do  most  deeply  regret  my  inability 
to  present  the  lessons  of  human  experience  in  terms 
which,  if  they  do  not  convince  the  casual  reader,  will 
at  least  arrest  his  attention.  If  I  should  say  that 
unless  the  existing  campaign  of  destruction  is  ar 
rested  the  valley  of  the  lower  Hudson  will  become  a 
desert  and  the  site  of  New  York  City  a  bed  of  mala 
ria  upon  which  human  life  cannot  exist,  I  should 
be  called  a  thoughtless,  unreliable,  sensational 
writer ;  yet  that  is  just  what  I  ought  to  say.  With 
present  means  of  transportation,  in  eight  days  I 
could  take  the  reader  to  a  country  once  of  rare  fertil 
ity,  where  agriculture  flourished,  where  stood  the 
famous  mart  of  Populona,  where  the  coast  was  filled 
with  commercial  towns  and  their  surroundings  were 
occupied  by  a  prosperous  population,  but  where  the 
sites  of  old  cities  have  now  not  one  inhabitant,  where 
the  coast  is  well-nigh  depopulated,  and  where  mala 
rious  fevers  have  extended  their  ravages  far  into  the 
interior.  Yet  this  region  was  once  the  garden  of 
Europe,  and  but  for  the  same  criminal  negligence  of 
which  our  generation  is  guilty  might  have  been  as 
productive  to-day  as  it  was  in  the  reign  of  Augustus 
Caesar.  On  the  shores  of  Tuscany  and  the  Adriatic 
— on  the  banks  of  the  rivers  from  the  Appenines  to 
the  Mediterranean  Sea,  and  through  the  valleys  of 


166  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

Northern  Switzerland,  everywhere  in  older  Europe, 
we  may  read  a  similar  chapter  in  the  book  of  nature. 
At  first  fertile  table-lands,  hillsides  covered  with 
vineyards,  everywhere  a  healthy,  prosperous  people. 
Then  the  mountains  first  slowly  encroached  upon, 
then  denuded  of  their  covering.  Floods  and  inun 
dations  before  unknown  came  next  in  succession, 
sweeping  the  alluvium,  the  soil,  and  finally  the 
gravel  down  toward  the  sea,  spreading  it  into  swamps 
and  marshes,  after  which  swiftly  followed  the  famine 
and  the  pestilence. 

Nature  is  never  in  a  hurry.  In  her  movements 
she  takes  all  the  time  that  is  necessary.  One  day  is 
as  a  thousand  years  and  a  thousand  years  as  one  day. 
In  the  Tuscan  Maremma  where  the  swallows  retreat 
before  the  malaria,  in  Northern  Italy  where  the 
peasant  travels  five  miles  for  a  back-load  of  wood, 
or  in  the  American  forests  just  producing  the  first 
crop  of  fevers,  there  is  one  result  which  follows  the 
destruction  of  the  forest  which  no  observing  man 
can  fail  to  notice.  Is  there  any  man  of  three-score 
years  who  does  not  know  that  the  rivers  of  New 
England  have  diminished  one-half  in  volume  since  his 
boyhood?  The  Connecticut  by  carrying  around  the 
falls  was  navigable  to  Hanover,  N.  H.  The  Wi- 
nooski  will  not  float  a  skiff  now  over  the  spot  where 
the  Black  Snake,  a  fifty-ton  batteau,  had  its  fight 
with  the  officers  of  the  customs  in  1808.  During 
the  Revolution  a  British  admiral  proposed  to  anchor 
his  ships  of  war  in  the  Bronx,  now  a  mere  rivulet 
which  forms  one  of  the  boundaries  of  New  York  City. 
The  poet  Bryant  once  gave  a  marked  instance  of 
this  diminution  of  rivers.  He  wrote :  "  It  is  a  com 
mon  observation  that  our  summers  are  become  drier 


DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  FOREST.  167 

and  our  streams  smaller.  Take  the  Cuyahoga  as 
an  illustration.  Fifty  years  ago  large  barges  loaded 
with  goods  went  up  and  down  that  river,  and  one  of 
the  vessels  engaged  in  the  battle  of  Lake  Erie  was 
built  at  Old  Portage,  six  miles  north  of  Albion,  and 
floated  down  to  the  lake.  Now,  in  an  ordinary 
stage  of  the  water,  a  canoe  or  a  skiff  can  hardly  pass 
down  the  stream." 

The  Hudson,  the  Mohawk,  and  the  Raquette 
rivers  are  already  greatly  diminished  in  volume, 
and  the  Adirondack  region  is  thickly  sown  with  the 
germs  of  febrile  disease.  Taking  things  in  their 
present  condition,  let  us  turn  the  mirror  of  experience 
so  that  it  will  reflect  the  future,  and  consider  the 
image.  Existing  encroachments  all  around  the  per 
iphery  of  the  region  are  continued,  clearing  the  sur 
face,  which  for  a  time  will  yield  indifferent  pasturage 
until  the  thin  soil  is  washed  from  the  rocks,  when  it 
will  become  worthless.  New  companies  of  lumber 
men  will  range  over  the  whole,  felling  every  ever 
green  above  ten  inches  in  diameter.  They  may  give 
some  attention  to  the  public  demand  in  felling  the 
trees  and  disposing  of  the  tops  and  branches.  But 
they  will  find  it  necessary  to  raise  the  dams  and  flood 
a  still  greater  extent  of  the  lowlands  in  order  to 
reach  forests  more  remote.  Forest  fires  will  multiply 
as  the  supply  of  dry  fuel  increases.  Wood-pulp  mills 
will  abound  on  every  considerable  stream.  Summer 
hotels  will  increase  with  the  railroads  which  will 
follow  the  valleys,  and  as  these  hotels  are  built  with 
little  regard  to  sanitary  laws,  wherever  one  exists 
it  will  be  a  source  of  contamination  to  the  water 
and  of  malaria  on  the  land.  Increasing  crowds  of 
tourists,  of  artists,  of  persons  who  think  they  are 


168  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

sportsmen,  will  infest  the  country  during  the  summer, 
and  the  poor  victims  of  pulmonary  disease  will  come 
to  it  in  the  winter  to  sicken  and  die.  How  long  it  will 
be  before  the  atmosphere  of  the  Adirondack  swamps 
will  be  fever-stricken  like  the  Pontine  marshes  is  not 
very  material  to  know,  for  that  time  will  surely  come. 

Suppose  in  the  more  distant  perspective  should  be 
seen  a  great  city  comprising  the  New  York  of  the 
twentieth  century  and  its  surroundings.  By  that  time 
its  demands  will  become  peremptory.  Unrestricted 
immigration;  huge  blocks  of  cheaply  constructed 
and  badly  ventilated  tenement-houses  will  have  be 
come  hives  of  the  lowest  orders  of  humanity.  "  Un 
clean,  unclean,"  will  be  the  language  of  the  streets 
and  of  the  municipal  administration.  The  daily 
harvest  of  death  will  be  greater  than  in  the  famine, 
fever  stricken  regions  of  India  and  China.  But 
louder  and  more  imperious  will  be  the  demand  for  a 
pure  water-supply.  Then  the  great  crime  of  1892, 
perpetrated  without  even  attracting  public  notice,  will 
have  fructified.  The  impounding  of  the  precipitation 
of  the  Croton  watershed  in  a  huge  artificial  lake, 
where  the  waters  have  no  currents  and  every  organic 
substance  sinks  to  the  bottom  to  and  die  decay,  where 
every  drop  of  the  water  will  be  contaminated,  will 
result  in  a  harvest  of  death  which  must  continue  un 
til  the  lower  Hudson  Valley  has  been  abandoned  and 
human  negligence  has  sought  other  channels  of  ex 
ploitation. 

I  know  only  too  well  that  these  words  of  warning 
will  fall  upon  incredulous  and  unwilling  ears ;  but  they 
are  spoken  in  all  seriousness  by  one  who  appreciates 
their  necessity  and  who  ventures  a  hope  that  they  may 
yet  attract  some  small  measure  of  public  attention. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

NOVEMBER  DAYS  ON   LAKE  CHAMPLAIN — THE 
STORY  OF  HIRAM  BRAMBLE. 

ON  a  recent  summer  vacation  an  intelligent  book 
seller  sent  to  me  two  very  delightful  books,  written 
by  Mr.  Rowland  Robinson,  of  Ferrisburgh,  Vt., 
under  the  titles  of  "  Uncle  'Lisha's  Shop  "  and  "  Sam 
Lovell's  Camp."  The  dialects  reproduced  by  Mr. 
Robinson — Vermont  Yankee  by  several  characters 
and  Canuck-French  by  Ant-Twine  Bissette — are  ex 
cellent,  much  the  most  successful  I  have  seen. 

In  reading  these  books,  it  occurred  to  me  that  if 
Mr.  Robinson  could  imagine  incidents  enough  to 
make  a  book  out  of  the  experiences  of  a  fishing- 
camp  at  the  mouth  of  Little  Otter  Creek  in  the  out- 
season  month  of  June,  a  true  relation  of  some  of  my 
own  experiences  in  a  neighboring  region,  on  East 
Creek  and  Bullwagga  Bay,  might  be  equally  enter 
taining  to  the  reading  public.  For  there  are  few 
square  acres  of  that  creek  and  bay,  including  the  nar 
row  lake  from  Chimney  Point  to  Ticonderoga,  that  I 
have  not  been  rowed  over  by  one  of  nature's  original 
characters,  more  or  less  in  company  with  one  of  the 
best  shots  and  most  entertaining  companions  who 
ever  pulled  a  trigger  or  winged  a  "pintail."  Oh, 
what  sport  we  had  on  those  long-past  November 
days !  Here  are  some  of  their  memories. 

Hiram  Bramble,  or,  as  his  neighbors  called  him, 
169 


170  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

"Old  Bramble,"  was  an  original  character.  He 
lived  in  a  log  house  on  the  high  south  bank  of  East 
Creek,  in  Orwell,  a  half  mile  above  its  mouth.  He 
was  skilled  in  wood  and  water  craft — many  were 
the  flocks  of  different  species  of  water-fowl  within 
shot  of  which  he  has  rowed  or  paddled  an  eminent 
American  diplomat  and  myself  in  those  days  of 
long  ago.  Bramble  loved  us  well  enough  to  have 
gone  through  fire  to  serve  us  if  we  had  made  such  a 
demand  upon  him.  He  gave  us  great  sport  and  we 
rewarded  him,  as  he  thought,  royally.  He  was  him 
self  a  successful  hunter,  but  he  was  disinclined  to 
waste  his  ammunition  upon  birds  on  the  wing,  a 
style  of  shooting  in  which  he  became  skilful  under 
our  instruction. 

Bramble  had  a  wife  when  we  knew  him — a  second 
Mrs.  Bramble.  He  was  poor  and  sometimes  dissi 
pated,  but  whenever  he  spoke  of  his  first  wife  his 
voice  was  tremulous,  and  he  had  a  habit  of  brushing 
something  out  of  his  eyes.  Those  who  knew  them 
said  he  always  treated  her  with  the  affection  of  a 
loving  husband  and  the  courtesy  of  a  gentleman  by 
nature  until  she  was  laid  away  under  the  green  turf 
of  the  Orwell  churchyard,  under  a  little  mound 
planted  with  roses,  and  even  then  very  carefully 
tended.  When  she  died  Bramble  was  captured  by  a 
masculine  widow  with  a  voice  like  a  bark-mill  and 
the  temper  of  a  demon.  She  did  not  like  either  my 
companion  or  myself.  She  always  spoke  of  us  as 
"  them  rascal  Burlington  lawyers "  who  paid  Bram 
ble  to  be  idle,  lazy,  and  drunk.  I  think  she  was  im 
partial,  for  she  abused  every  one  who  gave  Bramble 
any  employment. 

How  well  I  remember  the  day  when  I  accepted 


THE  STORY  OF  HIRAM  BRAMBLE.  171 

the  invitation  of  a  friend,  afterward  an  honor  to  his 
country,  to  go  with  him  on  a  shooting  excursion  to 
East  Creek !  He,  I  am  sure,  will  recall  our  first  visit 
to  this  locality — our  trip  on  the  steamer  tkrough 
the  beautiful  lake ;  our  sumptuous  dinner ;  our  land 
ing  at  Orwell,  where  Bramble  was  waiting  for  us, 
and  those  two  days  which  followed,  of  which  I 
hesitate  to  give,  at  this  late  day,  the  details. 

Bramble  had  made  the  plans  for  our  afternoon  and 
evening.  The  teal,  both  kinds,  were  just  coming 
from  the  north.  The  best  stations  were  on  the  bank 
at  the  mouth  of  the  creek — the  best  time,  the  last 
hour  of  daylight.  One  of  us,  he  said,  would  go  with 
him  to  his  boat,  which  lay  up  the  creek,  where  it  was 
nearest  to  the  highway,  and  he  would  row  us  down 
toward  its  mouth.  We  might  pick  up  a  stray  duck 
or  two  on  the  way.  P.  would  take  the  short  cut 
through  the  woods  to  the  mouth  of  the  creek,  and  in 
the  wood  which  he  would  go  through  scare  up  one  or 
two  ruffed  grouse  and  possibly  an  English  snipe  or 
a  gray  squirrel. 

I  went  with  Bramble.  As  we  came  to  the  bank 
near  the  highway  bridge,  under  which  he  had 
moored  his  boat,  a  mallard  drake  rose  sluggishly 
from  the  opposite  shore,  fifty  yards  away.  He  was 
turned  over  with  a  No.  4  Eley's  wire  cartridge  from 
the  right  barrel  of  my  muzzle-loader;  breech-loaders 
being  then  unknown.  "He's  a  goner,"  said  Bram 
ble  as  he  launched  his  boat.  I  took  my  seat  in  its 
stern ;  he  rowed  across  and  picked  up  the  duck  and 
said: 

"  We  don't  want  to  hurry.  We've  two  good  hours 
before  the  ducks  begin  to  come  in — two  hours  at 
least.  Did  Squire  P.  ever  tell  you  about  Mr.  B., 


172  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

that  he  brought  down  here  last  year?  Well,  he  was 
a  terror,  he  was.  Every  time  anything  with  wings 
got  up,  bang!  bang!  went  both  of  his  barrels.  He 
never  hit  any  thing  because  there  was  never  anything 
in  front  of  his  gun.  When  we  picked  up  Squire  P. 
I  told  him  that  I  didn't  think  I  ought  to  row  his 
friend  any  more  unless  he  would  be  responsible  for 
his  accidents,  the  same  as  the  town  was  for  an  ac 
cident  on  a  road  which  was  out  of  repair.  Some  day 
his  friend  would  shoot  the  top  of  my  head  off,  and 
somebody  ought  to  be  good  for  the  damages !" 

We  rowed  leisurely  down  the  creek.  I  then  knew 
nothing  of  Bramble's  home  or  household.  As  we 
came  around  a  sharp  bend  in  the  creek,  I  saw  on  the 
top  of  the  next  high  point  of  land  a  small  house.  A 
person  in  female  dress  came  out  of  the  door  and 
made  an  angry  stride  toward  the  bank.  Her  arms 
were  swinging  like  those  of  a  windmill.  She  was 
shouting  something  at  the  top  of  her  voice,  in  which 
I  could  only  distinguish  the  words  "  Old  Bramble  " 
and  "rascally  Burlington  lawyers."  She  was  ap 
parently  addressing  her  observations  to  us. 

"Who  is  that  woman?"  I  demanded  of  Bramble, 
somewhat  peremptorily. 

"  Judge, "  he  answered  very  seriously,  "  I  know  all 
the  creeturs  that  ever  lived  in  these  parts — some  ov 
'em  I  would  not  care  to  meet  in  the  night,  but  I  can 
truly  say  that  I  ain't  af eared  of  none  of  'em.  Now 
that  there  woman"  (pointing  to  where  she  seemed  to 
have  reached  the  climax  of  her  gymnastics) — "  that 
woman  is  the  only  thing  on  this  'vairsal  'arth  that 
I'm  afraid  of;  that's  Mrs.  Bramble,  my  wife!" 

"I  am  surprised,  Bramble,"  I  said.  "I  thought 
you  were  a  brave  man — not  afraid  of  anything." 


THE  STORY  OF  HIRAM  BRAMBLE.  173 

"No  more  did  I.  I  have  choked  a  bull-dog  to 
death  that  went  mad.  I  stopped  a  runaway  team, 
with  a  man's  wife  and  children  in  the  buggy,  and 
the  owner  wanted  to  pay  me  four  shillin'  for  it, 
when  he  knew  it  put  my  arm  out  of  joint.  I  was 
never  scairt  by  a  ghost  nor  a  jack-o'-lantern;  but 
when  that  woman  goes  for  me  in  one  of  her  tan 
trums,  the  pluck  runs  out  of  me  like  cider  out  of  a 
cheese  of  ground  apples  in  a  cider-mill.  She  is  a 
devil — a  full-grown,  heaped-up,  four-pecks-to-the- 
bushel  she-devil,  with  a  tongue  like  a  fish-spear.  I 
don't  .guess — I  know." 

"Never  mind,"  I  said,  "I  will  manage  her!" 
Bramble  looked  at  me  with  admiration .  I  remembered 
how  O'Connell  silenced  the  fish  woman.  I  could  not 
recall  his  mathematical  terms,  but  I  could  try  her  with 
linguistics.  As  the  boat  neared  the  house  I  laid 
down  my  gun,  took  off  my  coat,  and  flourishing  my 
arms  began  with  a  quotation  from  Virgil,  in  the  clos 
ing  words  of  which  I  put  great  emphasis,  and,  so  far 
as  I  knew  them,  the  motions  of  a  prize-fighter.  The 
vixen  hesitated.  This  species  of  warfare  was  new. 
Then  she  resumed :  "  You  drunken,  good-for-nothing 
Old  Bramble !  Wait  till  I  get  you  home  once  more !" 
"  Carramba !  Mille  tonnerre !  Habeas  corpus.  Ille 
ego  qui  quondam !"  I  shouted.  "  Sine  qua  non,  sink 
or  swim,  I  am  for  Bramble !"  I  was  too  much  for 
her.  "  He's  one  of  them  college  chaps,"  I  heard  her 
say.  "They  meet  with  the  devil  every  week;  but 

when  I  get  you  alone,  Old  Bramble "  Here  I 

took  up  my  gun,  and,  pointing  to  the  house,  fired 
some  other  nonsense  at  her  in  a  sepulchral  voice. 
She  retreated  into  the  habitation.  Bramble  was  in 
ecstasies.  He  "must  learn  them  words,"  he  said. 


174  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

He  "  didn't  suppose,  until  now,  that  anything  but 
death  would  silence  Mrs.  Bramble." 

I  may  as  well  here  record  the  fact  that  my  com 
panion,  "Squire  P.,"  did  actually  frighten  her 
upon  a  subsequent  occasion.  Bramble  was  rowing 
him  down  the  creek,  when,  as  usual,  she  shouted  at 
him  her  characteristic  observations.  He  directed 
Hiram  to  row  him  up  to  her  carefully,  and  when 
within  shot  he  pretended  to  aim  at  her  and  fired. 
She  really  thought  he  was  shooting  at  her  and 
rushed  into  her  cabin.  "  By  Jove !  Bramble,  I  have 
missed  her  with  both  barrels,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of 
vexation.  "I  don't  understand  it.  I  never  had  a 
fairer  shot." 

"  You  was  too  sartin !  I  saw  you  was  too  sartin, " 
said  Bramble.  "  There  is  more  shots  lost  by  being 
too  sartin  than  any  other  way."  However,  the 
vixen  was  tamed.  She  never  attacked  him  again. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 
DUCK-SHOOTING  IN  EAST  CREEK. 

THERE  was  a  full  hour  of  daylight  when  we 
reached  the  outlet  of  East  Creek.  My  companion 
was  already  there.  He  had  picked  up  a  pair  of 
English  snipe  and  a  ruffed  grouse  on  his  way  from 
the  Orwell  Landing.  Bramble  stationed  us  on  the 
high  bank  on  the  south  side  where  the  creek  entered 
the  lake,  I  being  nearest  to  the  mouth,  where  there 
was  no  obstruction  to  the  view.  "  You  must  hold  a 
long  way  ahead,"  he  cautioned  me.  "These  birds 
travel  very  fast."  The  teal  in  small  bunches  began 
to  arrive.  I  missed  the  three  and  P.  his  two  first 
shots.  "  You  must  either  wait  until  they  get  past  or 
hold  furder  ahead  of  them,"  counselled  the  old 
guide.  "  You  have  no  idee  how  fast  a  teal  can  travel 
when  he  is  in  a  hurry.  They  have  begun  to  come  in 
so  airly  that  there  is  liable  to  be  a  good  many  of 
them  before  dark.  They  fly  quicker 'n  pigeons  and 
swallows.  You  must  hold  furder  ahead  or  you 
won't  drop  a  bird."  "How  far  ahead?"  I  asked. 
"About  four  rod,  I  reckon,"  was  his  reply. 

A  single  speck  was  now  coming  from  the  north. 
I  watched  its  approach  and  understood  the  rapidity 
of  its  flight.  This  time  I  waited  until  it  was  well 
past  me.  The  bird  fell  at  the  shot.  "  I  will  get  into 
the  boat  now  and  pick  up  the  game,"  said  Hiram. 
"  You  have  got  the  hang  of  the  creeturs  now  and  we 
will  have  teal  for  supper." 

175 


176  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

The  policy  of  waiting  until  the  bird  had  passed 
was  not  new  to  either  of  us.  We  had  shot  passenger- 
pigeons  and  swallows.  I  did  not  suppose  that  anjT- 
thing  with  feathers  came  any  nearer  to  lightning  in 
rapidity  of  flight;  but  these  teal  surpassed  them. 
However,  we  had  now  learned  their  ways.  There 
were  few  more  misses,  and  as  long  as  we  could  see 
we  kept  Hiram  and  "  Bang, "  our  Irish  setter,  busily 
occupied  in  retrieving  our  birds. 

We  counselled  with  Hiram  whether  we  should  stay 
over  night  at  Orwell  or  Chimney  Point.  The  dis 
tance  was  about  the  same,  and  we  intended  to  be  on 
the  ground  at  daylight  for  the  morning  shooting. 
Bramble  decided  upon  Orwell  Landing.  "  The  last 
time  I  was  at  the  other  place,"  he  said,  "there  was 
a  steak  so  tough  that  it  could  not  be  carved  unless 
both  hands  and  one  foot  were  on  the  table." 

We  went  to  the  landing,  where  a  good  supper  was 
soon  ready,  which  we  insisted  Bramble  should  share 
with  us.  He  did  so,  by  way  of  obeying  orders  rather 
than  from  choice.  He  was  a  light  eater  and  was 
drawing  away  from  the  table  before  we  had  half 
finished  our  meal.  "  Don't  leave  yet,  Bramble,"  said 
P.  "  You  have  eaten  almost  nothing.  Have  another 
piece  of  this  turkey.  He  belongs  to  this  generation." 
Hiram  submissively  obeyed,  remarking  sotto  voce: 
"  I  really  s 'posed  I  had  had  enough,  but  I'm  an 
ignorant  man,  and  what  I  know  is  mostly  about  birds 
and  wild  animals  good  for  game ;  but  you  have  been 
eddycated  at  college  and  know  'most  everything.  If 
you  say  I  have  not  finished  my  supper,  of  course  it 
must  be  so.  Now  I  shall  eat  till  you  tell  me  to  stop," 
he  said  with  apparent  seriousness. 

Like  all  good  things  the  supper  came  to  an  end. 


DUCK  SHOOTING  IN  EAST  CREEK.  177 

We  had  left  our  boots  and  rubber  coats  at  the  hotel 
where  we  landed.  "I  want  them  long  boots  of 
yours,"  said  Bramble.  "They  need  a  dressing  of 
neatsfoot  oil.  I  want  you  to  be  ready  for  what's 
coming.  There  is  more  kinds  of  ducks  in  the 
marshes  than  I  have  seen  in  ten  years,  and  not  a  gun 
has  been  fired  over  them.  It  will  rain  to-morrow,  I 
cal'late — not  hard,  but  a  kind  of  drizzle  that  will  keep 
the  birds  in  the  marshes.  If  you  put  up  a  flock  of 
black  duck  in  a  clear  day  they  won't  stop  this  side 
of  Long  Island.  But  to-morrow  they  will  lay  close. 
I  don't  suppose  anything  less  alarmin'  than  the  voice 
of  my  wife  would  start  'em  out.  I  want  you  to  have 
a  day  to-morrow  that  you  will  remember  as  long  as 
you  live.  We  ought  to  be  at  the  mouth  of  the  creek 
by  daylight  to-morrow  morning." 

We  surrendered  our  guns  and  boots  to  Hiram,  who 
well  knew  how  to  put  them  in  order.  By  ten  o'clock 
we  were  enjoying  that  dreamless  sleep  which  only 
hunters  know,  out  of  which  Bramble  aroused  us  with 
some  difficulty  at  a  very  early  hour  next  morning. 
We  fortified  ourselves  with  a  cup  of  hot  coffee  and  a 
light  breakfast,  and  set  out,  Bramble  carrying,  as 
I  thought,  abundant  rations  for  three  days. 

As  we  approached  the  creek  the  quack  of  many 
ducks  came  to  us  through  the  foggy  atmosphere. 
Hiram  declared  that  they  were  caucusing  whether  to 
go  south  to-day  and  "  most  of  the  speeches  were  agin' 
it."  He  advised  us  to  take  our  stands  of  the  pre 
vious  evening.  He  said  that  until  the  sun  came  out 
the  ducks  would'stick  close  to  the  creek  and  we  would 
be  able  to  select  our  birds.  "  We  don't  want  no 
sawbills,"  he  said,  "nor  coots  nor  old  squaws.  Most 
any  other  kind  will  do.  Canvas-backs  and  red- 
12 


178  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

heads  come  here,  but  not  plenty.  They  are  good, 
but  not  a  bit  toothsomer  than  a  young,  well-grown 
black  duck  or  the  little  butter-balls.  I  am  going 
outside  into  the  marshes  in  my  boat.  After  daylight 
you  will  hear  my  gun,  and  soon  after  you  will  see 
something  fly  up  the  creek,  and  it  won't  be  stake- 
drivers  neither.  Bang  will  have  to  do  your  re- 
trievin'." 

We  were  on  our  stands  before  the  sun  made  any 
effort  to  pierce  the  fog  which  covered  lake  and  creek, 
and  which  was  so  dense  that  we  heard  the  quack 
ing  of  the  birds  long  before  they  were  visible.  Soon 
we  heard  the  roar  of  Bramble's  gun  far  out  upon  the 
marsh.  It  was  our  signal  to  watch.  A  number  of 
dark  spots  were  coming  toward  us  through  the  mist. 
They  got  three  of  our  barrels,  and  with  a  joyous  yelp 
Bang  dashed  down  the  bank  into  the  water  and 
brought  out  first  one  and  then  another  black  or  dusky 
duck.  We  had  scarcely  loaded  our  guns  before  the 
same  flock  returned,  flying  nearly  over  our  heads. 
Two  birds  fell  on  the  bank  almost  at  our  feet.  Bang 
had  brought  out  a  third,  making  five  birds  from  our 
opening  fire. 

With  such  a  beginning  so  early  in  the  day,  we  ex 
pected  by  nightfall  to  have  achieved  the  success  of 
our  lives.  But  sportsmen,  like  politicians,  are  some 
times  deceived  by  flattering  prospects.  The  sun  was 
above  the  fogs  struggling  to  pierce  them.  First  a 
small  white  spot  appeared  in  the  east.  It  grew  larger 
and  the  first  sunbeam  shone  upon  the  water.  In  a 
few  minutes,  as  if  a  great  curtain  had  been  with 
drawn,  the  silvery  lake,  its  green  shores  and  greener 
islands,  the  distant  Adirondacks  with  Tahawus  tow 
ering  above  them,  lay  before  us  like  a  picture.  Then 


DUCK-SHOOTING  IN  EAST  CREEK.  179 

from  every  little  bay  and  sheltered  place  the  ducks 
took  wing.  They  circled  in  the  air  as  if  to  find  their 
bearings,  and  then  straight  as  an  arrow's  flight  took 
their  course  southward  and  disappeared  from  our 
view.  Two  little  buff  el-heads  or  butter-balls,  scarcely 
larger  than  quails,  started  up  the  creek.  They  were 
the  last  which,  on  these  stands,  fell  to  our  guns. 

Bramble  now  came  to  us  with  his  boat.  "  What 
were  we  to  do  now?"  we  asked.  "Anything  you 
like, "  he  said,  "  for  you  will  see  no  more  ducks  here 
until  nightfall."  We  might  go  over  to  Ti'  Creek, 
he  said,  where  there  had  been  no  shooting.  We 
could  also  go  through  a  piece  of  woods  which  he 
pointed  out,  where  there  were  two  or  three  broods  of 
well-grown  partridges,  and  he  would  row  the  boat  up 
the  lake  and  meet  us  at  the  landing. 

We  followed  his  advice.  We  struck  through  a 
piece  of  first-growth  beech  and  maple,  where  the  leaves 
had  fallen,  and  as  the  sun  dried  the  dampness  the 
autumnal  fragrance  was  delicious.  We  had  little 
time  to  breathe  it,  however,  for  as  soon  as  we  entered 
the  wood  Bang  made  a  dead  point,  and,  ordered  on, 
he  put  up  a  covey  of  partridges.  With  that  whirring 
sound  that  always  stirs  the  blood  of  a  true  sportsman, 
they  radiated  like  the  spokes  of  a  wheel  from  its  hub. 
I  got  the  line  of  one,  but  was  not  quick  enough  for  a 
second.  My  companion  was  more  deliberate.  After 
the  fall  of  his  first  bird,  he  turned  and  caught  the 
second  by  a  sixty-yard  shot  in  the  opposite  direction, 
Within  a  half -hour  the  rest  of  the  brood,  six  birds 
in  all,  were  in  our  bags.  As  we  came  out  of  the 
woods  to  the  lake  shore,  Bang  at  once  informed  us 
that  we  were  near  other  game-birds.  He  was  an 
intelligent  and  thoughtful  animal.  His  language 


180  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

was  not  vocal,  but  was  as  well  understood  as  if  he 
had  been  able  to  speak.  He  began  to  quarter  a  belt 
of  rushes,  so  tall  that  we  could  follow  him  only  by 
the  waving  of  his  bushy  tail.  As  he  crossed  an 
opening  he  came  to  a  point  before  a  tussock  of  grass. 
"What  is  it,  Bang?"  I  asked.  He  looked  back,  saw 
that  my  gun  was  ready,  made  a  step  or  two  forward, 
when  with  the  note,  "seep — seep,"  so  seldom  heard, 
two  English  snipe  were  flushed  and  one  of  them  fell. 
Then  followed  what  I  have  only  seen  upon  one  other 
occasion.  Instead  of  going  off  at  a  tangent  the  re 
maining  bird  rose  in  a  circular  flight,  uttering  his 
"seep — seep."  He  was  answered  by  others,  which 
rising  described  similar  circles  until  there  were  a 
dozen  in  the  air.  We  got  in  our  four  barrels  upon 
those  that  were  within  range,  when  the  whole  flock 
started  together  in  a  southerly  direction.  We  well 
knew  that  snipe-shooting  for  the  day  in  that  locality 
was  ended. 

We  reached  the  hotel  in  time  for  the  twelve-o'clock 
dinner,  after  which  we  laid  out  our  work  for  the 
afternoon.  P.  with  Bramble  was  to  go  to  another 
creek  just  below  the  old  fort  at  Ticonderoga,  where 
no  guns  had  been  heard,  and  whence  if  any  ducks 
were  started  they  would  probably  fly  down  the  lake 
to  East  Creek.  I,  with  a  French  neighbor  of  Bram 
ble's,  was  to  take  my  chances  under  a  point  which 
projected  into  the  lake  from  the  Vermont  shore  about 
half-way  between  the  two  creeks. 

We  left  the  landing,  going  in  opposite  directions. 
P.  had  passed  out  of  view  around  a  bend  of  the  lake, 
when  my  Frenchman,  who  was  rowing  with  his  face 
to  the  south,  exclaimed:  "Yoila!  Canards!  can 
ards!"  Turning,  I  saw  a  small  flock  of  broadbills 


DUCK-SHOOTING  IN  EAST  CREEK.  181 

coining  from  that  direction,  and  two  of  them  fell  be 
fore  I  heard  the  report  of  P.  's  gun.  The  four  remain 
ing  birds  came  on,  flying  well  apart.  Standing  in 
the  boat,  I  dropped  the  only  one  that  came  within 
reach.  The  Frenchman  exclaimed :  "  Load  him  you 
gun  so  quick  you  nevaire  can.  May  be  he  come  back 
dis  way."  And  come  that  way  they  did,  two  birds 
flying  so  high  that  I  scarcely  supposed  they  could  be 
reached.  But  one  fell  with  a  broken  wing,  and  Bang 
caught  it  in  the  water  after  a  lively  pursuit.  The 
other  was  killed  by  P.,  making  the  entire  number  of 
that  little  flock. 

There  were  no  birds  in  Ti'  Creek,  though  P.  man 
aged  to  pick  up  a  couple  on  his  way  back  to  the  land 
ing.  I  remained  at  my  post  until  nightfall  and  was 
beaten  by  one  bird.  For  supper  we  had  some  of  our 
young  birds  roasted.  We  retired  early,  for  we  were 
very  weary  and  had  planned  for  an  early  start,  so  as 
to  reach  Bullwagga  Bay  in  the  morning  as  soon  as 
it  was  light  enough  to  see  a  bird  on  the  wing. 


CHAPTER    XX. 
A  COLD  MORNING  ON  BULLWAGGA  BAY. 

WE  loved  the  sport  in  those  days  of  youth  and 
vigor,  or  we  would  not  have  endured  the  hardships 
of  the  next  day.  We  were  called  at  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning.  It  was  so  cold  that  the  falling  rain 
threatened  to  turn  into  snow.  Bramble  and  P. 
looked  after  themselves.  I  was  seated  in  the  stern  of 
the  little  Frenchman's  boat.  His  teeth  were  chat 
tering  and  he  observed  that  "  le  matin  vas  leetle  beet 
froid,  vat  you  say  cold,  but  the  sun  mak'  more  hot 
bam-by."  Sharp  work  at  the  oars  restored  his  cir 
culation,  and  vigorous  use  of  the  paddle  did  the  same 
for  mine.  The  bay  lies  between  the  peninsula  of 
Crown  Point  and  the  New  York  shore.  We  landed 
well  south  of  the  extreme  point.  For  the  last  half- 
mile  the  loud  quacking  of  the  ducks  across  the  pen 
insula  indicated  that  they  were  holding  a  debate  in 
unlimited  numbers.  Suddenly  Frenchy  stopped. 
"  I  tink  I  be  fool  pretty  bad,"  he  said.  *  Dat  all  one 
f  amlee,  les  canards  noir. "  "  You  mean  black  ducks  ?" 
I  asked.  "Dat  ees  eet,  dat  ees  eet,"  he  exclaimed. 
"  Black  duck — canards  noir.  He  fly  all  one  way,  all 
one  time.  Bam-by  quand  le  soleil,  le  sun  come — 
zweet,  he  all  gone  quick,  you  don't  see  no  more  dis 
day." 

I  gathered  from  his  jargon  that  at  daylight  the 
flock  would  all  leave.  Bramble  was  of  the  same 

182 


A  COLD  MORNING  ON  BULLWAGGA  BAY.      183 

opinion.  We  decided  to  land  and  draw  our  boats 
over  to  the  bay.  Then  we  could  at  least  get  in  all 
our  barrels  when  they  rose.  We  crossed  the  land 
and  were  fortunate  enough,  in  the  darkness,  to  find 
a  shelter  of  rough  boards  covered  with  branches 
which  some  one  had  constructed  for  a  blind  to  shoot 
from.  There  we  shivered,  Bang  the  coldest  of  the 
party,  and  waited  for  the  dawn.  The  noisy  quack 
ing  of  the  ducks  indicated  that  they  were  not  more 
than  forty  or  fifty  yards  away.  It  was  loud  enough 
to  render  our  steps  inaudible  and  indicated  their 
presence  in  great  numbers.  Their  proximity  stirred 
our  blood  so  that  we  did  not  quite  perish  with  the 
cold. 

The  antics  of  Frenchy  were  amusing.  "  He's  got 
more  as  ten  tousan'  black  ducks  on  de  bay,"  he 
whispered;  "mais,  he's  de  meanes'  duck  for  stay  you 
never  see  it.  You  shoot  one  tarn — he's  gone  for 
Wite  Hall,  you  don't  nevaire  see  him  some  more. 
He's  got  one  sacre  ole  duck  on  de  watch-out  dis 
minute — more  as  feefteen  year  old.  He  know  so 
much  as  man,  dat  ole  duck — he  see,  he  hear,  he 
smell.  Af  de  wind  blow  nudder  way  he  smell  you 
an'  pff!  he  go  quick.  You  shoot  queek's  yer  see  one 
duck.  Put  you  gun  on  dis  leetle  hole — da's  de  way ; 
you  get  one  shot — no  more,  aujourd'hui." 

Did  you  ever  see  a  flock  of  ducks  asleep  on  the 
water?  It  is  a  very  funny  sight,  especially  when 
the  wind  blows  their  bodies  in  contact  and  wakes 
them  to  an  angry  quacking.  As  the  light  slowly  in 
creased  we  first  made  out  a  piece  of  open  water  in- 
front  of  the  blind,  surrounded  by  rushes ;  then  dark 
patches  upon  the  water  came  into  view  which  seemed 
to  be  moving.  These  were  the  ducks  asleep,  not- 


184  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

withstanding  the  quacking  all  around  them.  We 
arranged  to  fire  the  first  barrel  from  the  inside  of  the 
blind,  then  to  step  outside  and  fire  as  they  rose.  It 
was  now  light  enough  and  we  gave  them  the  first 
two  barrels.  When  we  stepped  outside  it  was  a  land 
rustling,  if  not  shadowy  with  wings.  All  over  the 
bay  there  was  a  sound  like  the  rushing  of  a  storm 
through  the  branches  of  a  forest.  I  never  heard  the 
like  before,  I  have  never  heard  it  since.  As  ar 
ranged,  we  stepped  outside  and  fired  our  second  bar 
rels  into  the  thickest  of  the  risen  flock. 

Bang  had  obediently  waited  until  he  got  the  word. 
He  now  dashed  into  the  water  to  retrieve  the  dead 
and  wounded  birds.  I  thought  the  Frenchman  had 
gone  crazy.  He  was  leaping  about  and  almost 
screaming:  "Load  you  gun!  load  you  gun!  Don't 
you  see !  Les  canards  he's  start  for  Canada.  He's 
mak'  meestake.  He  come  back.  Ah,  mon  Dieu! 
Ah,  load  you  gun  two,  tree,  six  times !  you  get  more 
ducks,  plenty  more !" 

We  had  shot  from  the  southward  of  the  entire  flock, 
which  had  consequently  first  moved  northward. 
What  Frenchy  meant  was  that  they  would  return 
and  go  south.  Then  a  breech-loader  would  have 
been  invaluable.  Return  they  did,  but  not  before  we 
had  charged  our  barrels.  We  let  the  single  birds 
pass,  and  when  the  thickest  of  the  flock  was  almost 
over  us  we  again  fired  the  four  barrels.  "  He  is  rain 
some  snow,  much  more  black  duck, "  shouted  the 
Frenchman.  "  He's  got  no  more  black  duck  to-day," 
he  said  as  the  last  of  the  flock  went  past.  Bramble 
agreed  with  him.  The  last  duck  had  risen  from  the 
bay  and  departed.  Our  duck-shooting  for  the  day 
was  over. 


A  COLD  MORNING  ON  BULLWAGGA  BAY.      185 

We  had  left  directions  at  Orwell  that  our  game 
and  traps  should  be  put  upon  the  steamboat  going 
north  that  afternoon.  When  Bang  had  brought  in 
all  the  dead  and  wounded  we  pulled  over  our  boats 
and  were  rowed  across  the  bay  to  Port  Henry. 
There  we  dismissed  Bramble  and  Frenchy  liberally 
compensated  and  happy.  On  the  arrival  of  the 
steamboat  our  game  was  exposed  upon  the  forward 
deck,  to  the  wonder  of  the  surprised  passengers.  We 
reached  our  homes  after  an  absence  of  two  days  and 
a  few  hours. 

How  many  birds  were  there  collected  in  the  two 
days?  I  have  not  mentioned  the  number  for  several 
reasons.  Even  two-score  years  ago,  when  game- 
birds  of  every  species  were  thrice  or  four  times  as 
numerous  as  they  are  now,  they  were  the  most  suc 
cessful  days  of  all  my  shooting.  My  companion  has 
since  risen  to  eminence  and  I  would  not  like  to  have 
him  annoyed  by  inquisitive  correspondents  or  per 
sonal  inquirers,  although  I  know  that  if  called  as  a 
witness  he  is  too  true  a  sportsman  to  desert  his  friend. 
Finally,  the  shooting  in  every  bay  and  around  every 
marsh  on  that  beautiful  lake  is  now  preserved  at  great 
expense,  and  the  sportsman  who  haunts  these  preserves 
from  morn  till  dewy  eve,  fortunate  if  at  nightfall 
he  can  feel  the  weight  of  the  birds  in  his  game-bag, 
would  find  it  difficult  to  believe  that  it  required  two 
porters  to  carry  our  game  ashore  from  the  steamer. 
Whether  the  story  is  attractive  to  them  or  to  any 
member  of  the  present  generation,  it  warms  my 
heart  to  know  that  there  is  one  man  living  who  will 
read  with  a  thrill  of  delight  this  brief  sketch  of  two 
November  days. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 
QUACKS  AND  QUACKERY. 

FROM  ducks  to  quackery  is  an  easy  transition. 
"  Quack"  is  said  to  be  an  onomatopoetic  word,  but  I 
am  una,ble  to  discover  the  slightest  resemblance  be 
tween  a  boasting  medical  pretender  and  the  language 
of  the  duck-pond.  The  duck  is  an  honest  fowl,  con 
servative  in  his  ideas,  using  the  language  as  well  as 
preserving  the  habits  of  his  ancestors.  There  is  no 
justice  nor  propriety  in  associating  him  with  a 
mountebank  because  of  the  sound  of  his  mother 
tongue. 

It  is  amazing  that  quackery  should  not  only  sur 
vive,  but  flourish  in  New  England,  where  there  is  a 
newspaper  in  every  family  and  an  educated  physician 
in  every  hamlet.  I  am  not  now  referring  to  that  form 
of  it  which  finds  expression  in  patent  or  proprietary 
medicines,  for  in  most  of  those  which  attain  any 
popularity  there  is  some  merit.  I  have  in  mind  the 
more  disreputable  class  which  deals  in  charms,  com 
mands,  and  superstitions,  the  natural  bone-setters, 
the  seventh  sons  of  seventh  sons  who  claim  to  in 
herit  the  gift  of  healing;  who  suppose  that  those  are 
most  capable  of  repairing  the  delicate  machinery  of 
human  life  who  are  the  most  ignorant  of  its  struct 
ure  and  functions.  It  is  incredible  that  such  pre 
tentious  ignorance  should  be  able  to  secure  a  foot-hold 
in  an  intelligent  community.  That  it  does,  goes  far 

186 


QUACKS  AND  QUACKERY.  18? 

to  prove  the  good  old  Presbyterian  doctrine  of  the  to 
tal  depravity  of  the  human  heart.  An  occurrence 
with  which  I  was  once  invited  to  have  something  to 
do  professionally  will  illustrate  the  impudence  of  the 
quack  and  the  credulity  of  his  victim. 

A  farmer  of  average  intelligence,  in  good  circum 
stances,  was  thrown  from  his  wagon  and  suffered  a 
compound  fracture  of  his  thigh-bone.  An  experi 
enced  country  surgeon  was  called,  who  restored  the 
parts  to  their  places,  dressed  the  limb  in  proper 
splints,  and,  with  a  suitable  weight  and  pulley,  ar 
ranged  to  keep  it  extended  until  there  was  a  firm 
union  of  the  fragments  of  bone.  He  gave  to  the 
patient  and  his  family  very  positive  and  emphatic 
instructions.  The  reparation  would  take  a  long  time 
and  involve  some  pain.  Unless  the  farmer  wished  to 
leave  his  bed  a  cripple  for  life,  with  one  leg  some 
inches  shorter  than  the  other,  he  must  endure  the 
pain  without  taking  off  the  weights  or  handling  the 
limb  in  any  way ;  that  if  the  extension  was  once  re 
laxed  the  cure  would  be  difficult,  perhaps  impossible. 
As  the  surgeon  lived  several  miles  away,  he  should 
not  visit  him  oftener  than  once  a  week,  nor  would 
more  frequent  visits  be  necessary  if  his  instructions 
were  obeyed. 

On  his  second  visit  the  surgeon  saw  that  his  direc 
tions  had  not  been  followed.  After  denials  and  pre 
varications,  the  family  confessed  that  the  weights 
had  been  removed  and  the  position  of  the  body 
changed  several  times  because  the  pain  was  greater 
than  the  farmer  could  endure.  They  had  therefore 
relieved  the  pressure,  removed  the  bandages,  and 
bathed  the  limb  with  hot  water  and  "  Pond's  Extract," 
which  was  popularly  known  as  the  "  universal  pain- 


188  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

killer."  The  doctor  was  indignant.  He  ridiculed 
the  pretended  inability  of  the  patient,  a  strong  man, 
to  bear  a  pain  which  children  could  endure  without 
complaint,  repeated  his  directions  with  greater  em 
phasis,  and  declared  that  unless  his  advice  was  fol 
lowed  his  farther  attendance  was  useless,  and  that  if 
upon  his  next  visit  he  found  that  it  had  been  disre 
garded  he  would  abandon  the  case  and  leave  the 
patient  to  become  a  permanent  cripple. 

Just  at  that  time,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  the  celebrated 
Morgan  horses  driven  by  a  colored  servant  in  livery, 
a  very  remarkable  person,  according  to  his  own  esti 
mate,  appeared  and  took  a  suite  of  rooms  at  the 
hotel  in  the  county  town.  He  wore  a  long  cloak  of 
dark  velvet,  with  a  crimson  collar  and  trimmings, 
buckskin  trousers,  a  vest  of  figured  satin  covering  a 
ruffled  shirt,  made  fast  in  the  bosom  by  an  enormous 
yellow  diamond  pin.  Thus  equipped  and  ornamented, 
he  appeared  before  the  modest  dwelling  of  the  farmer 
ready  to  guarantee  his  cure.  His  rule  was  "  No  cure, 
no  pay,"  but  this  case  had  been  so  mismanaged  by 
the  country  surgeon  that  he  would  make  it  an  ex 
ception.  If  the  wounded  farmer  would  execute  and 
give  to  him  his  promissory  note  for  twenty-five  hun 
dred  dollars  as  an  advance  payment  in  the  nature  of 
a  retaining  fee,  he  would  not  only  promise  but  would 
guarantee  his  cure. 

Of  course  the  farmer  accepted  the  conditions  and 
signed  the  promissory  note.  There  is  a  hypnotic 
control  which  these  quacks  can  exercise  which  for 
the  time  is  stronger  than  the  judgment  of  their  vic 
tims.  He  did  not  even  remove  the  dressings  of  the 
wounded  limb.  He  made  various  motions  over  it, 
recited  formulas  in  unknown  tongues,  declared  that 


QUACKS  AND  QUACKERY.  189 

the  cure  would  shortly  be  complete,  pocketed  his 
promissory  note,  and  went  in  search  of  new  vic 
tims. 

The  poor  farmer  had  a  distressing  experience. 
The  directions  of  the  surgeon  were  no  longer  obeyed ; 
the  splints  and  dressings  of  the  limb  were  removed ; 
ulceration  began,  promoted  by  bathing  the  leg  in  hot 
water ;  there  was  no  union  of  the  fractured  bones ; 
new  joints  were  formed  at  the  fractures,  and  when 
he  finally  hobbled  from  his  bed  he  was  a  permanent 
cripple,  with  a  useless  Jimb,  condemned  to  the  use 
of  crutches  for  the  remainder  of  his  life.  The  quack 
visited  him  a  few  times,  assured  him  that  his  direc 
tions  as  a  natural  bone-setter  had  never  failed,  and 
that  in  the  end  his  cure  would  be  perfect. 

The  promissory  note  was  made  payable  at  the 
-  Bank.  On  the  day  it  matured  it  was  pre 
sented,  payment  was  demanded,  and  the  note  was 
protested  for  non-payment.  Suit  was  commenced 
upon  it,  and,  as  the  unjust  statutes  of  the  State  then 
permitted,  all  the  horses,  cattle,  and  personal  prop 
erty  of  the  farmer  were  attached  and  about  to  be 
removed  by  the  sheriff,  when  his  neighbors  volun 
teered  and  gave  an  undertaking  to  pay  any  judgment 
which  the  quack  should  recover  in  the  action. 

When  the  issues  in  the  action  came  on  to  be  tried 
the  farmer  was  represented  by  one  of  the  most  skilful 
advocates  at  the  bar.  The  quack  would  not  pay 
counsel  and  intrusted  his  case  to  the  attorney  who 
had  commenced  the  action.  Instead  of  proving  the 
execution  of  the  note  and  resting  his  case,  as  he 
might  have  done,  the  attorney  called  the  quack  to  the 
stand  and  proved  by  him  the  demand  of  payment 
and  the  farmer's  refusal  to  comply  with  the  demand. 


190  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

His  personal  appearance  on  the  witness-stand  sug 
gested  a  combination  of  a  dancing-master  and  a 
mountebank.  His  velvet  coat  with  scarlet  ornamen 
tation,  his  broad  expanse  of  shirt  the  ruffles  whereof 
were  transfixed  by  the  diamond  pin,  his  velvet 
knee-breeches,  silk  stockings,  pink  gloves,  and  patent- 
leather  shoes ;  his  hair  bleached  to  a  sickly  yellow ; 
his  long,  waxed  mustaches  curled  at  the  ends,  sug 
gested  a  comparison  which  would  have  been  to  the 
disadvantage  of  a  monkey;  his  compressed  mouth, 
pointed  nose  and  chin  gave  him  the  expression  of  a 
rat,  which  did  not  at  all  comport  with  the  air  of  lofty 
dignity  which  he  attempted  but  failed  to  assume. 
Without  waiting  for  a  question,  he  launched  out 
upon  a  story  of  his  tremendous  professional  suc 
cesses,  the  kings  and  great  persons  who  had  been  his 
patients,  and  of  his  excuses  for  treating  the  farmer 
for  so  small  a  compensation,  his  regular  .fee  for  a 
broken  leg  being  five  thousand  dollars!  When  he 
had  damaged  his  case  as  much  as  he  could  by  these 
improbable  statements  he  was  turned  over  to  the 
farmer's  counsel  for  cross-examination. 

"I  will  trouble  you,  doctor,"  said  the  counsel,  "to 
name  some  patient  who  ever  paid,  or  promised  to 
pay,  you  a  fee  of  five  thousand  dollars. " 

"Must  I  answer  such  an  insulting  question?"  said 
the  doctor,  appealing  to  the  judge. 

"  I  think  you  must, "  said  the  judge,  "  unless  you 
plead  your  privilege." 

"Then  I  plead  my  privilege,"  he  said  promptly. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  your  privilege?"  de 
manded  the  counsel. 

"  I  mean  my  privilege  to  answer  such  questions  as 
I  choose." 


QUACKS  AND  QUACKERY.  191 

"  Are  you  quite  certain  that  you  know  what  is  the 
meaning  of  the  privilege  of  a  physician?" 

"  I  know  everything  that  any  doctor  knows. " 

"That  being  the  case,  I  will  not  pursue  this  in 
quiry.  Now  will  you  kindly  tell  us  what  kind  of  a 
doctor  you  are?" 

"  I  am  a  universal  doctor,  sir.  I  cure  all  kinds  of 
cases." 

"That  is  not  precisely  what  I  mean.  To  what 
school  of  medicine  do  you  belong?  I  should  have 
asked." 

"  I  don't  belong  to  no  school.  I  don't  believe  in  no 
school.  I'm  a  born  doctor.  I  am  a  seventh  son." 

"  Now,  doctor,  pray  gratify  my  curiosity  and  tell 
me  whether  you  are  a  botanic,  a  hydropathic,  an  al 
lopathic,  or  a  homoeopathic ;  what  kind  of  a  doctor 
you  call  yourself." 

"  I  don't  know  nothing  about  no  paths,  sir.  I'm 
a  universal  doctor,  only  I  don't  use  no  markery." 

"  I  see ;  you  would  be  understood  by  your  profes 
sional  brethren  as  an  eclectic  doctor,  what  the  Japan 
ese  would  call  a  very  high-class  doctor?" 

"Yes,  that's  it.  I  didn't  understand  you.  I'm 
an  eklektik  doctor !" 

There  was  a  hesitation,  a  slight  pause  after  his 
pronunciation  of  the  first  syllable,  which  gave  to  the 
word  the  sound  of  "ecolectic,"  and  proved  to  be  the 
rock  on  which  the  quack  was  to  suffer  shipwreck. 
In  his  very  gentle  and  kindly  tone  the  counsel  said : 

"Doctor,  please  give  us  the  orthography  of  the 
word  you  have  just  used.  I  wish  to  be  certain  about 
the  professional  position  of  a  gentleman  so  eminent 
as  yourself.  Kindly  tell  us  how  you  spell  the  kind 
of  doctor  you  claim  to  be — an  eclectic  doctor." 


192  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

The  wily  impostor  hesitated,  demurred,  finally  ob 
jected.  He  did  not  claim  to  be  a  teacher  of  spelling; 
he  never  was  a  very  good  speller.  He  appealed  to  the 
court.  Was  he  under  any  obligation  to  tel  1  the  counsel 
how  to  spell  hard  words? 

Judge  Pierpont  said  he  would  be  pleased  to  ac 
commodate  the  witness,  but,  unfortunately,  the 
counsel  was  insisting  upon  his  clear  legal  right.  If 
he  pressed  the  question,  the  witness  must  tell  the 
jury  how  to  spell  the  word  which  described  his  pro 
fession. 

The  counsel  insisted.  If  he  was  to  pay  $2,500  for 
the  information  his  client  wanted  to  know  what  kind 
of  a  doctor  he  had  employed. 

"Then  I'll  be  d— d  if  I  tell  him,"  burst  out  the 
doctor.  "  I  will  not  be  put  on  exhibition  by  any  petti 
fogging  attorney !" 

"  As  you  please,"  observed  the  judge.  "  Since  you 
refuse  to  answer  a  proper  question  on  cross-examina 
tion,  it  is  my  duty  to  direct  the  jury  to  return  a  ver 
dict  for  the  defendant. " 

"  No !  no !  Don't  do  that !"  exclaimed  the  mounte 
bank.  "I'll  spell  her — she's  easy  enough."  He 
hastily  muttered  some  unintelligible  sounds,  and 
said,  "That's  the  way  I  spell  her,  sir." 

"  Please  stop,  sir !"  said  the  counsel  in  his  gentle, 
but  very  decisive  style.  "  Pronounce  each  letter  and 
syllable  distinctly  so  that  they  may  be  written  down." 

The  fellow  stammered,  hesitated,  but  determined 
to  rely  upon  his  impudence,  which  had  so  often  car 
ried  him  through  difficulties. 

"I  can  spell  her,  sir,"  he  exclaimed.  "She  goes 
this  way:  E,  k,  ek,  k,  o,  ko,  1,  e,  k,  lek,  t,  i,  k,  tik 
— ekkolektik !" 


QUACKS  AND  QUACKERY.  103 

He  was  at  the  end  of  his  exercise  before  the  court 
and  the  spectators  appreciated  the  ludicrous  exhibi 
tion  of  his  ignorance.  The  court  made  no  effort  to 
suppress  the  roar  of  laughter  which  followed. 

The  witness  was  very  angry.  "  I  am  entitled  to 
three  guesses,"  he  said,  "if  I  have  not  fetched  her 
the  first  time." 

"  Go  on,"  said  the  counsel.     "  I  have  no  objection." 

"E,  c,  k.  ek,  c,  h,  o,  ko —  The  applause  now 
completely  stopped  him.  His  colossal  impudence 
gave  way — it  could  not  survive  such  ridicule.  He 
rushed  from  the  witness-box  foaming  at  the  mouth 
and  cursing  the  court  and  jury.  His  attorney  had 
nothing  to  say,  and  the  jury  without  leaving  their 
seats  returned  a  verdict  for  the  crippled  farmer. 

I  encountered  an  illustration  of  the  celebrity  which 
some  of  the  so-called  "  patent  remedies"  attain  in  one 
of  our  Western  Territories.  It  was  in  a  stage  crossing 
one  of  the  illimitable  sage-brush  deserts  of  Nevada. 
Far  away,  at  a  right  angle  to  our  course,  we  dis 
covered  a  horseman  firing  his  revolver,  waving  a 
white  piece  of  cloth,  and  approaching  at  the  top  of 
his  horse's  speed.  Our  driver  decided  that  "them 
dog-goned  Shoshones  had  broke  out  uv  their  reserva 
tion, "  and  this  messenger  had  been  sent  to  turn  us 
back.  At  the  road  crossing  we  halted.  As  the  cou 
rier  approached  he.  shouted  his  message:  "Jesus 
Pacheco  wants  a  box  uv  er  little  liver  pills,  and  his 
gal  Meta  wants  er  bottle  uv  Ayer's  Hair  Vigor  for 
the  fandango  ter-morrer  night !"  The  driver  nodded 
assent,  and  the  horseman  turned  back  with  an  air  of 
an  important  mission  executed. 

The  earliest  pages  of  profane  history  are  records  of 
13 


194  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

the  most  incredible  quackery.  "  The  Mistery  of  the 
microcosme  or  little  world  which  is  man's  body  and 
the  medicinal  parts  belonging  unto  man,"  written  by 
Basil  Valentine,  Monke  of  the  order  of  St.  Bennet,  is 
a  storehouse  of  medical  science.  It  was  comprised 
in  his  will,  "  which  he  hid  under  a  Table  of  marble, 
behind  the  High  Altar  of  the  Cathedral  Church  in 
the  Imperial  City  of  Erfurt,  leaving  it  there  to  be 
found  by  him  whom  God's  Providence  should  make 
worthy  of  it. "  In  this  learned  treatise  the  physicians 
of  the  first  years  of  the  seventeenth  century  learned 
how  "the  Stone  of  the  Philosophers  was  made  and 
perfectly  prepared  out  of  true  Virgin's  milk,"  and 
how  it  "transmutes  the  base  metals  into  good 
and  fixt  gold."  Here  are  described  the  miraculous 
properties  of  the  shining,  glowing,  leaping,  striking, 
trembling,  falling,  and  superior  rods — the  aurum 
potabile  and  the  fiery  tartar.  Here,  too,  was  the 
manual  whereby  he  prepared  his  medicines  which 
never  failed  to  cure.  Perfect  faith  in  all  the  state 
ments  of  the  monk  of  Erfurt  is  somewhat  difficult. 
But  it  involves  no  such  tax  upon  human  credulity  as 
the  medical  portion  of  the  great  Natural  History  of 
Pliny. 

"Humanity,"  said  Adam  Smith,  "is  very  uni 
form."  In  the  first,  as  in  the  nineteenth  century 
men  who  exercised  calm  judgment  and  common  sense 
upon  all  other  subjects,  in  dealing  with  their  own 
healths  and  lives  cheated  themselves  by  the  most 
atrocious  quackery.  ^Esculapius  and  Pythagoras 
founded  the  medical  science  for  Cicero  and  Julius 
Csesar,  who  in  that  behalf  were  not  as  well  provided 
for  as  the  Indians  of  North  America  are  by  their 
medicine-men  in  our  time.  For  the  doctors  of  the 


QUACKS  AND  QUACKERY.  195 

Piutes  and  the  Sioux  do  acquire  some  practical  knowl 
edge  in  the  use  of  medicinal  plants  which  is  valuable. 
But  the  most  inferior  of  these  medicine-men  are  not 
credulous  enough  to  believe  that  acorns  pounded  with 
salt  and  axle-grease  constitute  a  certain  cure  for  bad 
habits,  or  that  the  toothache  is  cured  by  biting  a 
piece  of  wood  from  a  tree  which  has  been  struck  by 
lightning.  In  Pliny's  time  the  human  race  must 
have  been  fearfully  afflicted  with  disease.  Just  how 
many  remedies  are  given  in  the  thirty-seven  books 
of  his  great  work,  I  have  not  taken  the  trouble  to 
count.  In  seven  of  these  books,  which  comprise 
those  derived  from  forest  trees,  wild  and  cultivated 
plants,  living  creatures,  and  such  aquatic  products 
as  mineral  waters,  sea-mosses,  salt,  etc.,  there  are 
no  less  than  six  thousand  two  hundred  and  sixty-five 
of  these  remedies  described.  Of  these  the  most  fruit 
ful  source  is  salt,  and  the  bramble  and  creeping  ivy 
respectively  furnish  fifty-one  and  thirty-nine.  The 
witch-hazel  was  probably  unknown  to  Pliny.  If  he 
comprises  it  under  the  general  word  hazel,  it  by  no 
means  possesses  the  magical  qualities  attributed  to 
"Pond's  Extract."  On  the  contrary,  it  produces 
headache  and  increase  of  flesh  and  is  really  good  only 
for  catarrh. 

If  Pliny  is  an  authority,  the  surgery  of  his  time 
was  as  extraordinary  as  its  pharmacopoeia.  An  ex 
peditious  union  of  broken  bones  was  accomplished  by 
bruising  the  ashes  of  burnt  field-mice  with  honey,  and 
burnt  earth-worms  were  extremely  useful  for  the  ex 
traction  of  splintered  bones.  To  extract  arrows, 
pointed  weapons,  and  other  hard  substances  from  the 
body,  the  Roman  surgeon  applied  the  body  of  a 
mouse  split  asunder,  or  in  special  cases  the  head  of 


196  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

the  same  animal  pounded  with  salt,  and  the  same 
practitioner  cured  his  drunkard  with  the  eggs  of  an 
owlet  in  three  days.  We  cannot  pursue  the  histori 
cal  accounts  of  this  great  authority  in  natural  sci 
ence.  He  was  a  close  observer  of  the  scientific  pro 
gress  of  his  time.  But  for  Pliny,  the  works  of  Diocles 
of  Carystus,  of  Hippocrates,  Praxagoras,  Herophilus, 
and  Erasistratus  would  have  been  lost  to  science  and 
the  remedies  of  Cleophantus  and  Asclepiades  would 
never  have  been  preserved. 

In  the  records  of  the  earliest  explorations  of  the 
New  World  are  found  illustrations  of  the  medical 
uses  of  plants  by  the  native  Indians  of  great  interest. 
Jacques  Cartier  of  Saint  Malo,  that  enterprising 
French  explorer,  first  ascended  the  St.  Lawrence 
River  in  May,  1535.  Arrested  by  the  rapids  above 
Montreal,  he  found  the  rich  alluvial  soil  along  the 
river  carpeted  with  wild  flowers.  His  men  sincerely 
believed  that  they  had  reached  the  Flowery  Kingdom. 
They  exclaimed,  "  La  Chine !  La  Chine !"  and  gave  a 
name  to  the  locality  which  it  bears  to-day.  They 
landed,  and,  ignorant  of  the  changes  of  temperature 
to  which  the  region  was  subject,  determined  to  re 
main  there  while  expeditions  were  sent  out  to  explore 
the  surrounding  country.  Suddenly  the  cold  of  De 
cember  gathered  them  in  its  embrace.  They  had 
none  but  salted  provisions,  and  they  were  quickly 
attacked  by  the  scurvy.  Said  the  historian  of  the 
expedition:  "We  were  stricken  by  a  disease  previ 
ously  unknown — the  legs  were  swollen,  the  muscles 
turned  black  as  charcoal  and  seemed  spotted  with 
drops  of  blood.  The  disease  involved  the  hips, 
thighs,  shoulders,  arms,  and  neck.  The  gums  became 
rotten,  the  teeth  loosened  so  that  they  fell  from  the 


QUACKS  AND  QUACKERY.  197 

jaws.  Of  one  hundred  and  ten  men  from  our 
three  ships,  by  the  middle  of  February  there  were 
not  ten  who  were  strong  enough  to  take  care  of  the 
sick,  and  there  were  not  fifty  who  had  any  hope  of 
life."  In  this  desperate  condition  the  Frenchmen 
were  visited  by  two  Indian  women  who  made  a  de 
coction  from  the  bark  of  a  tree  and  made  the  sick 
men  drink  it.  The  effect  was  almost  miraculous. 
As  soon-  as  they  drank  it  the  disease  was  arrested, 
and  within  two  weeks  every  sick  man  was  cured. 
The  species  of  the  tree  is  given  only  by  its  Indian 
name,  but  it  was  probably  the  black  cherry  or  a  spe 
cies  of  the  willow.  "  Tous  ceulx  qui  en  ont  voullu 
vser  ont  reconvert  sante  et  guerison,  la  grace  adieu," 
is  the  conclusion  of  Cartier's  record  of  the  incident. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ESSEX   JUNCTION. 

THERE  is  no  term  in  American  lexicography  the 
mention  of  which  raises  the  indignation  of  so  many 
travellers  to  a  white  heat  as  "  Essex  Junction."  The 
reasons  for  this  will  hereafter  abundantly  appear. 
As  I  had  some  connection  with  its  monstrous  birth 
and  a  thorough  knowledge  of  its  earlier  growth,  per 
haps  a  sketch  of  its  history  may  be,  in  some  sense,  a 
duty. 

Away  back  in  the  early  forties  two  lines  of  railroad 
from  Boston  were  constructed  pari  passu  toward 
Burlington,  a  common  terminus.  We  may  call  them 
the  Rutland  and  the  Central.  No  one  then  supposed 
that  they  would  extend  farther  west,  for  Lake  Cham- 
plain  was  thought  to  interpose  an  impassable  barrier. 
Later,  and  before  either  road  was  constructed  to  its 
terminus,  the  Vermont  and  Canada  was  chartered 
from  Burlington  north  to  Canada  line,  and  this  road 
was  leased  to  and  became  permanently  identified  with 
the  Central.  Still  later  an  application  was  made  to 
the  legislature  in  the  name  of  the  Vermont  and  Can 
ada  to  bridge  Lake  Champlain  at  Rouse's  Point  so  as 
to  secure  an  unbroken  line  toward  the  West. 

Then  commenced  a  contest  famous  in  the  legislative 
annals  of  Vermont.  The  Rutland,  supported  by  the 
towns  south  and  west  of  its  line,  supposed  it  could 
stay  the  progress  of  the  railroad  westward.  Burling- 

198 


ESSEX  JUNCTION.  199 

ton,  ambitious  to  become  a  railroad  terminus  on  the 
lake,  took  an  active  part  in  the  contest.  The  bridge 
was  opposed  on  grounds  which  now  seem  absurdly 
untenable.  It  was  claimed  and  proved  by  experts 
that  the  bridge  would  obstruct  navigation,  that  it 
would  raise  the  water  and  overflow  the  low  lands 
along  the  lake  shores,  and  that  great  public  and  pri 
vate  damage  would  inevitably  follow  its  construction. 

But  the  Central  won  and  the  bridge  was  authorized. 
Then  the  Rutland  wanted  to  participate  in  its  ad 
vantages,  and  after  another  fierce  contest  in  the  leg 
islature  it  procured  an  amendment  of  its  charter 
which  authorized  it  to  build  an  extension  from  Bur 
lington  north  to  Rouse's  Point. 

There  was  a  lawyer  who,  by  indorsing  for  a  friend, 
had  at  that  time  become  interested  in  a  paper-mill  at 
Hubbell's  Falls,  near  the  present  Essex  Junction. 
We  will  call  his  name  Jacob.  He  lived  at  Stanton's 
Tavern,  a  hostelry  on  the  river  road  convenient  to 
the  Falls.  He  was  a  diminutive  creature  about  four 
and  a  half  feet  high,  with  an  enormous  head,  which 
contained  cunning  and  mischief  enough  to  stock  the 
Third  House  or  fit  out  the  students  of  a  university. 
He  was  employed  by  the  Central  as  counsel  to  pre 
vent  the  construction  of  the  Rutland  railroad  north  of 
Burlington,  and  he  entered  upon  his  work  con  amore. 
He  discovered  and  forthwith  purchased  the  services 
of  one  Stevens,  who  lived  in  Essex,  and  who  was  an 
original  subscriber  for  five  shares  of  the  capital  stock 
of  the  Rutland  Railroad  Company,  not  then  worth 
the  same  number  of  coppers.  The  Rutland  was  about 
to  make  a  new  issue  of  bonds  secured  by  a  mortgage 
of  its  entire  line,  with  the  proceeds  of  which  it  in 
tended  to  build  from  Burlington  to  Rouse's  Point. 


200  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

As  unexpected  as  thunder  from  a  clear  sky,  Jacob 
came  down  upon  it  with  an  action  in  favor  of 
Stevens  for  an  injunction  against  the  building  of  the 
extension,  on  the  ground  that  the  extension  was  an 
infraction  of  his  (Stevens')  vested  rights  as  a. stock 
holder  in  a  railroad  the  terminus  of  which  was  at 
Burlington. 

Jacob's  motion  for  a  preliminary  injunction  came 
on  to  be  heard  before  Judge  Milo  L.  Bennett  at  Bur 
lington — a  judge  whom  no  inducement  could  swerve 
one  hair's  breadth  from  his  judicial  duty.  No  lawsuit 
had  ever  arisen  in  Vermont  which  caused  greater  ex 
citement.  The  leading  lawyers  from  the  southern 
and  western  portions  of  the  State  were  present  at 
the  hearing.  They  protested  against  the  outrage 
of  permitting  a  traitor  to  the  Rutland  company,  who 
had  sold  himself  to  the  enemy  and  whose  paltry  five 
shares  of  stock  were  worthless,  to  obstruct  a  great  pub 
lic  enterprise  in  which  three-fourths  of  the  State  were 
interested.  Capitalists  from  Boston  whose  money 
had  built  the  Rutland  railroad  offered  an  enormous 
price  for  the  Stevens  shares.  Everything  that  legal 
ability  and  ingenuity  could  devise  was  done  to  resist 
the  granting  of  that  motion.  But  Jacob  was  inflexi 
ble.  He  appeared  alone,  without  associate  counsel. 
He  wasn't  "selling  shares  then,"  he  said.  "Some 
other  day,  perhaps;  but  just  then  he  was  after  an 
injunction." 

And  he  got  his  injunction.  In  spite  of  all  the  op 
position,  his  motion  was  granted.  In  the  opinion  of 
an  inflexible  judge  he  was  entitled  to  it,  and  it  was 
not  withheld.  I  may  as  well  say  here  that  that  in 
junction  was  never  dissolved,  and  the  railroad  was 
never  built  north  of  Burlington.  The  excitement  was 


ESSEX  JUNCTION.  201 

so  unreasoning  that  it  took  the  form  of  personal  hos 
tility  to  Judge  Bennett,  because  he  did  not  find  some 
way  of  defeating  or  denying  the  motion.  At  the 
next  session  of  the  legislature  his  re-election  was 
defeated.  It  was  the  first  time  in  Vermont  that  a 
judge  was  opposed  because  he  had  made  or  not  made 
a  decision  which  the  public  wanted.  Before  the  year 
had  passed  the  Vermonters  were  thoroughly  ashamed 
of  their  conduct.  Judge  Bennett  was  restored  to  the 
Supreme  Bench  by  the  unanimous  vote  of  the  legis 
lature,  and  remained  there  by  annual  re-election  un 
til  he  died. 

And  this  mischief-making  attorney  made  another 
discovery  of  what  I  always  regarded  as  an  intended 
fraud.  It  was  that  while  the  charter  of  the  Vermont 
and  Canada  road  connected  with  the  Rutland  in  the 
village  of  Burlington,  it  had  the  option  to  connect 
with  the  Central  at  some  point  in  the  county  of  Chit- 
tenden.  Very  soon  the  report  was  current  that  on 
account  of  the  steep  grades  of  the  line  into  Burling 
ton  from  the  north  and  east,  the  engineers  were  pros 
pecting  for  a  line  to  connect  the  Vermont  and  Canada 
with  the  Central  somewhere  in  Essex.  Even  then  it 
was  not  believed  that  any  needless  injury  to  Burling 
ton  was  contemplated.  Burlington  was  the  largest 
town  or  city  in  the  State  or  the  Champlain  valley, 
located  on  a  sheltered  harbor  at  the  widest  part  of 
the  lake,  and  midway  between  its  two  ends.  She 
had  water  communication  south  with  New  York, 
north  with  Montreal  and  Quebec,  and  west  with  the 
St.  Lawrence,  the  Ottawa,  and  the  great  lakes.  She 
was  almost  the  largest  lumber  market  in  the  Union. 
Her  manufactures  were  flourishing,  her  private  resi 
dences  beautiful,  and  her  people  hospitable.  It  seemed 


202  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

as  if  nature  and  art  had  combined  to  equip  her  with 
every  quality  for  the  natural  lake  terminus  of  three 
railroads,  and  to  make  her  an  attraction  to  travellers 
upon  whose  memories  she  should  leave  the  imprint 
of  a  pleasant  dream.  She  was  the  Queen  City  of 
Lake  Champlain. 

But  an  accident  which  placed  the  control  of  the 
Central  where  it  could  be  made  to  minister  to  a  very 
small  local  prejudice  exposed  Burlington  to  grave  and 
lasting  misfortunes.  Six  miles  from  anywhere,  there 
was  a  barren  sand  plain  that  would  not  subsist  one 
jack-rabbit  to  the  square  acre.  The  region  round 
about  it  had  not  one  attraction,  and  its  general  fea 
tures  could  only  serve  to  prejudice  the  passing  travel 
ler,  and  to  deceive  him  as  to  the  fertility  of  the  soil 
of  Vermont,  the  beauty  of  her  valley,  and  the  gran 
deur  of  her  mountains.  On  this  dreary  spot  a  little 
brief  authority  decreed  should  be  planted  a  public 
nuisance — an  irritating  obstruction  to  the  traveller, 
which  he  would  never,  except  upon  compulsion,  en 
counter  a  second  time. 

Said  the  piping  voice  of  that  attorney:  "Build  me 
here,  out  of  the  culled  hemlock  or  the  cross-grained 
spruce,  a  shanty,  through  which  the  rains  of  sum 
mer  may  drizzle  and  the  storms  of  winter  whirl 
the  blinding  snows.  Along  its  walls  plant  benches 
hard  and  uncomfortable  enough  to  give  the  rheuma 
tism  to  a  foundered  tramp,  should  he  be  so  unfortunate 
as  to  be  obliged  to  sit  upon  them.  In  one  corner 
build  a  stall,  and  place  along  its  shelves  the  stale 
doughnut,  the  deadly  pie,  and  the  vinegar-rotted  cu 
cumber.  Let  a  cold  decoction  of  burnt  corn  be  pre 
pared  and  call  it  coffee.  Arrange  all  trains  so  as  to 
condemn  many  travellers  to  four  hours  of  starvation 


ESSEX  JUNCTION.  203 

and  imprisonment  there,  in  the  din  of  ringing  bells 
and  screaming  whistles,  until  they  shall  be  thoroughly 
prepared  for  suicide,  and  let  it  be  called  Essex  Junc 
tion  !" 

And  it  was  so.  As  an  abomination  of  desolation 
it  was  an  early  and  a  conspicuous  success.  In  1852 
this  dreadful  place  was  a  possession  unto  the  residue 
of  the  heathen,  taken  upon  the  lips  of  talkers,  and 
an  infamy  of  the  people.  Men  thought  it  then  a  su 
perlative  type  of  misery.  But  Essex  Junction  pos 
sessed  a  reserve  force  of  discomfort  unsuspected  by 
its  inventors.  It  has  become  worse  with  the  rolling 
years.  The  only  thing  which  has  prospered  in  that 
vicinity  during  these  almost  forty  years  is  the  grave 
yard. 

A  place  so  noted,  which  has  ploughed  such  deep 
furrows  of  misery  upon  so  many  memories,  which, 
disregarding  age,  sex,  or  condition,  has  imperilled  so 
many  human  lives,  has  naturally  attracted  the  at 
tention  of  many  American  poets  and  prose- writers. 
Some  have  abandoned  it  after  a  cursory  examination, 
satisfied  that  it  was  beyond  their  powers  and  a  subject 
to  which  they  could  not  do  justice.  Others  have  per 
severed  until  they  became  convinced  that  any  ade 
quate  description  of  its  detestable  attributes  involved 
the  use  of  profane  and  wicked  expressions  punisha 
ble  under  the  penal  code  and  prohibited  in  polite  so 
ciety.  Only  one  native  poet  has  had  enough  of  the 
divine  afflatus  to  enshrine  Essex  Junction  in  im 
mortal  song.  All  who  are  familiar  with  the  English 
poetry  of  the  last  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  will 
at  once  understand  that  I  refer  to  that  celebrated 
classic  which  (I  quote  from  memory)  runs  after  this 
wise : 


204  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

"  With  saddened  face  and  battered  hat, 
And  eye  that  told  of  blank  despair, 
On  wooden  bench  a  traveller  sat, 
Cursing  the  fate  that  brought  him  there. " 

I  hoped  to  be  able  to  give  to  my  readers  the  whole  of 
this  admirable  poem,  for  I  know  well  that  no  account 
of  Essex  Junction  can  be  complete  without  it.  But 
my  way  has  been  beset  with  many  difficulties.  All 
known  copies  of  the  poem  have  been  bought  up  and 
suppressed  by  those  whose  hard  fate  anchors  them  to 
Essex  Junction.  Applications  to  the  author  for  a 
copy  have  been  met  with  invective,  reproach,  con 
tumely,  obloquy,  and  objurgation.  Attempts  to 
reproduce  it  from  memory  against  his  will  have 
developed  the  fact  that  it  is  so  thoroughly  protected 
by  trade-marks,  design-patents,  and  copyrights  that 
the  inventor  could  at  once  enjoin  its  sale  should  its 
publication  be  attempted  in  invitum.  After  thor 
ough  investigation,  I  am  convinced  that  but  one  con 
solation  remains  to  the  public.  The  line  of  this 
writer  is  so  obviously  poetry,  not  sacred  but  profane, 
that  he  may  be  expected  hereafter  to  devote  himself 
exclusively  to  its  composition.  In  the  first  edition  of 
his  collected  works  we  may  therefore  confidently  ex 
pect  to  read  with  a  sympathetic  thrill  the  only  great 
ballad  of  Essex  Junction.  I  feel  that  I  have  in  a 
perfunctory  manner  done  my  duty  to  the  place  and 
its  proprietors,  and  that  I  may  say  of  it  as  Uncle 
Toby  said  of  the  fly  when  he  carefully  put  it  outside 
the  window:  "Go,  poor  devil!  In  all  this  wide 
world  there  is  room  enough  for  both  thee  and  me !" 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  HUMOR  AND  MISCHIEF  OF  THE  JUNIOR  BAR — 
OUR  ANNUAL  BAR  FESTIVAL. 

"  Send  out  for  all  the  lawyers, 

Collect  the  jovial  crowd, 
To  gather  'round  the  tables 

With  mirth  and  uproar  loud. 
Call  those  whom  we  so  long  have  known — 

Squire  Seymour,  Linsley,  Starr, 
And  also  all  the  devil's  own — who? 

Of  course  the  junior  bar  !" 

THE  term  applied  in  the  foregoing  verse  did  not 
inaccurately  describe  a  class  of  lawyers  who  in  those 
early  days  were  known  as  the  junior  bar.  We  did 
not  have  many  clients  nor  much  income.  But  we 
had  abundance  of  leisure  and  were  given  to  mischief 
as  the  sparks  fly  upward.  There  was  one  occasion 
on  which  the  safety-valve  was  thrown  wide  open  and 
the  dangerous  pressure  of  humor  was  relieved.  It 
was  the  annual  supper  of  the  bar  at  the  winter  term 
of  the  Supreme  Court,  held  by  all  the  judges  at  Mid- 
dlebury,  in  the  county  of  Addison.  There  we  laid 
Coke  and  Blackstone  on  the  shelf  and  sung  with  great 
fervor — 

"  O  dear  brothers,  may  the  time  be  distant,  far, 
When  the  first  one  shall  be  missing  from  the  gathering  of 
the  bar." 

That  was  a  company  of  men  with  hearts  and  con 
sciences  which  this  festival  annually  brought  to- 

205 


206  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

gether.  Our  oldest  brother  of  threescore  and  ten 
years  we  always  called  "  Squire  Seymour."  A  mem 
ber  of  the  celebrated  Seymour  family  of  Connecticut 
and  New  York,  his  kindly  heart  and  amiable  char 
acter  secured  not  only  our  respect  but  our  affection. 
There  was  an  expression  in  his  clear  blue  eyes  which 
without  exaggeration  we  called  lovely.  Our  Starr  was 
a  deacon  who  could  take  a  joke  and  make  one,  if  neces 
sary  ;  others  were  Linsley,  with  a  saturnine  expression 
which  was  only  skin-deep,  and  his  stock  song  of  "  The 
Hunters  of  Kentucky ;"  John  Prout,  who  seldom  spoke 
above  a  whisper,  and  was  consequently  accused  of 
making  all  the  noise ;  Tucker,  with  his  thirty-two  de 
grees  of  Masonry  and  his  eloquence  in  behalf  of  in 
jured  females ;  Needham,  our  Falstaff,  with  all  the  wit 
and  weight  but  none  of  the  grossness  of  his  Shake 
spearian  prototype;  Geo.  Chipman,  the  born  gentle 
man  from  the  mountain  wilds  of  Ripton ;  Barber,  the 
poet  of  love  and  free-soil !  Our  leaders  in  song  were 
the  brothers  S.,  whose  annual  programmes  always 
comprised  "  The  McGregors'  Gathering  "  and  imita 
tion  opera.  One  of  our  most  active  members  already 
gave  promise  of  the  eminence  in  diplomacy  which  he 
afterward  attained,  by  his  skill  in  the  use  of  language 
to  conceal  ideas.  Woodbridge  and  Grandey  wore  the 
honors  of  the  largest  city  in  Vermont,  which  was  also 
celebrated  as  the  smallest  in  the  world.  These,  with 
occasional  visitors  from  adjoining  counties  and 
worthy  representatives  of  the  names  of  Pierpont, 
Briggs,  Beckwith,  and  Wright,  always  furnished 
abundant  material  for  a  feast  of  reason  and  a  flow  of 
soul. 

We  were  officers  of  the  court,  bound  to  obedience 
to  statutory  law.     Our  State  had  adopted  the  "  Maine 


HUMOR  OF  THE  JUNIOR  BAR.  207 

liquor  law,"  and  under  the  maxim  in  equity  which 
presumed  that  to  be  done  which  ought  to  be  done, 
the  use  of  all  beverages  stronger  than  cider  and  spruce 
beer  no  longer  prevailed.  The  only  fluids  upon  our 
menu  (we  called  it  bill  of  fare)  were  Bipton  mineral 
water,  cider  fermented  and  unfermented,  and  metheg- 
lin.  Our  judges,  qualified  as  experts  by  long  experi 
ence,  were  of  opinion  that  the  Ripton  water  had  a  de 
lightful  "  blue-grass  "  aroma,  that  the  cider  in  flavor 
and  consequences  was  ^indistinguishable  from  a  prod 
uct  of  French  vineyards  imported  in  baskets,  and 
that  the  metheglin  closely  resembled  a  complicated 
mixture  known  to  our  remote  ancestors  by  the  name 
of  "rum-punch."  These  opinions  were  undoubtedly 
imaginative,  though  it  must  be  Admitted  that  the 
liberal  absorption  of  these  fluids  softened  the  stern 
ness  of  the  judicial  countenance  and  produced  a 
change  in  its  visual  organs  which  once  led  our  most 
venerable  judge,  pointing  to  our  deacon,  to  break  out 
with  the  nursery  ballad,  "  Twinkle,  twinkle,  little 
Starr."  The  conclusive  evidence  that  there  was  no 
deception  in  our  bill  of  fare  was  the  fact  that  no 
lawyer  or  judge  was  ever  known  to  be  absent  at  the 
opening  of  court  at  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning. 

The  wit  of  these  festivals  was  much  too  personal 
for  publication.  It  was  always  good-natured,  never 
malicious.  When  it  was  raised  to  concert  pitch,  it 
was  our  delight  to  send  out  committees  to  bring  in 
all  the  judges.  Our  invitations  were  never  declined, 
for  they  knew  that  while  our  exercises  promoted  good 
feeling  among  the  lawyers,  they  were  never  permitted 
to  diminish  our  respect  for  the  bench.  But  we  did 
sometimes  call  upon  them  to  explain  their  opinions 
in  cases  recently  reported.  One  of  them,  naturally 


208  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

too  realistic  to  appreciate  a  joke,  had  in  a  recent 
opinion  defined  a  "  heifer  "  as  a  "  calfless  bovine  two 
years  old."  This  opinion  we  considered  misleading. 
A  committee  secured  the  presence  of  the  judge  and 
formally  demanded  that  he  should  explain  whether 
or  not  a  male  bovine  two  years  old,  being  calfless, 
was  a  heifer.  He  certainly  was  as  the  judge  defined 
the  word.  We  insisted  that  the  opinion  was  an 
innovation  calculated  to  disturb  the  certainty  of  the 
law.  His  explanations  were  much  confused  and  we 
made  the  occasion  very  lively  for  him.  He  rather 
turned  the  laugh  upon  us,  however,  by  the  admission 
that  his  use  of  the  word  was  inaccurate  and  "  must 
have  been  induced  by  the  increasing  number  and  con 
stant  presence  bef6re  him  of  sucking  members  of  the 
bar."  He  offered  to  compromise  by  the  order  of  a 
basket  of  something,  and  his  explanation  and  com 
promise  were  accepted  as  satisfactory. 

I  recall  one  of  our  sentiments  which  worried  an 
other  of  our  judges.  The  action  of  "  book  account " 
had  been  in  use  from  the  adoption  of  our  constitu 
tion.  It  was  originally  intended  for  a  case  of  mutual 
accounts  or  of  an  account  with  many  items  difficult 
of  proof  except  by  the  oath  of  a  party.  In  an  action 
of  this  kind  the  parties  had  been  permitted  to  testify 
long  before  the  general  statute  which  made  all  par 
ties  to  an  action  witnesses.  This  action  had  been 
favored  by  the  court  and  greatly  extended.  In  a  re 
cent  case  it  had  been  maintained  in  what  looked  much 
like  a  case  of  trespass,  for  carrying  away  a  flight  of 
cellar  stairs,  the  judge  observing  that  one  stair  could 
not,  but  a  flight  might  be  recovered  for  in  this  form 
of  action.  The  sentiment  to  which  he  was  called  to 
respond  was: 


HUMOR  OF  THE  JUNIOR  BAR.  209 

"  The  option  of  book  account.  Like  necessity  it 
knows  no  law — like  the  area  of  freedom  it  is  constantly 
extending  its  limits — like  the  peace  of  God  it  passeth 
all  understanding." 

There  are  lying  before  me  the  manuscript  notes  of 
several  of  these  festivals.  In  them  I  recognize  the 
handwriting  of  nearly  every  one  of  those  I  have  named. 
I  might  transcribe,  for  the  amusement  of  the  casual 
reader,  some  of  their  sharp,  bright  words,  but,  alas ! 
I  have  not  the  heart.  For  of  all  those  dear  brothers, 
judges  as  wTell  as  lawyers,  I  can  count  the  survivors 
upon  less  than  the  fingers  of  a  single  hand.  The 
others  have  all  preceded  us  to  that  Higher  Bar  which 
we  are  very  near.  Only  four  will  read  these  lines. 
There  is  no  need  that  I  should  express  to  either  of 
them  the  memories  which  fill  my  heart  as  I  write. 
For  we  loved  one  another  with  a  love  which  will 
never  grow  cold  in  the  bosoms  of  the  survivors  on 
this  side  of  the  grave.  I  would  like  to  hear  the  few 
who  remain,  with  voices  not  so  clear  as  they  were 
forty  years  ago,  once  more  uniting  in  the  stanza : 

"  Now  swell  the  parting  chorus  as  the  lamps  grow  pale  and 

dim, 

And  fill  each  man  his  goblet  till  it  circles  round  the  brim  ; 
Let  our  hearts  glow  with  the  feeling  that  like  lambent  flame 

burns  bright, 
As  we  drink  the  toast  of  the  evening,  'To  the  absent  ones 

to-night. '" 

Echoes  of  the  feast  sometimes  mingled  with  the 
proceedings  in  court  on  subsequent  days.  Our  briefs 
were  not  printed — we  made  seven  copies,  one  for  each 
judge.  One  of  our  number,  who  seldom  smiled,  an 
able  lawyer,  afterward  an  honor  to  the  bench,  prided 
himself  upon  the  neatness  of  his  papers,  which  were 
14 


210  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

always  folded  to  an  uniform  width.  He  was  to  open 
the  argument  in  the  first  case  the  morning  after  one 
of  these  suppers.  He  walked  up  to  the  ben  chin  front 
of  the  Chief  Justice,  brought  his  pack  of  briefs  down 
upon  the  bench,  and  as  if  his  mind  was  upon  a  pack 
of  another  kind  said,  "  Will  your  Honor  please 

CUT?" 

"Mr.  P.,"  said  the  judge  with  great  dignity,  "you 
must  use  language  which  the  court  understands !" 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  the  sober  P.,  "I  did  not  suppose 
that  your  Honor  had  forgotten  over-night !" 

Another  incident  had  its  origin  at  one  of  these 
suppers  in  a  promise  to  pay  off  one  of  the  judges  for  a 
joke  perpetrated  at  my  own  expense.  He  was  a  per 
fectly  pure  and  upright  judge,  but  disqualified  by 
nature  for  the  trial  of  criminals.  He  was  unable  to 
overcome  his  natural  presumption  that  every  man 
brought  before  him  for  trial  must  be  guilty  until  he 
had  affirmatively  proved  his  innocence.  "Mr.  At 
torney,  can't  we  get  hold  of  a  criminal  9"  I  heard 
him  ask  one  morning  when  there  was  no  civil  case 
ready  for  trial.  This  inquiry  indicated  his  temper 
of  mind.  Obviously  a  criminal  against  whom  there 
was  any  evidence  did  not  have  much  chance  of  es 
cape  when  Judge  B.  in  his  charge  had  the  last  argu 
ment  to  the  jury. 

At  the  jury  term  following  the  bar  supper  a  mel 
ancholy,  disconsolate,  worthless  scamp  was  indicted 
for  the  crime  of  selling  intoxicating  liquor  without 
having  a  license  therefor.  He  said  he  had  no  coun 
sel  and  no  money,  and  he  might  have  added  that  he 
never  expected  to  have  any.  With  a  wicked  expres 
sion  in  his  eye,  Judge  B.  assigned  me  as  counsel  for 
his  defence.  I  refused  peremptorily,  but  the  judge 


HUMOR  OF  THE  JUNIOR  BAR.  211 

said  I  was  an  officer  of  the  court  and  could  not  dis 
obey  its  order  without  incurring  the  penalties  of  a 
contempt.  I  then  pleaded  engagements  and  endeav 
ored  to  beg  off.  But  the  judge  was  inflexible.  I 
saw  that  he  was  determined  to  make  me  endure  the 
infliction,  and  then  insisted  that  two  lawyers  of  my 
own  age  should  be  assigned  to  assist  me,  who  assured 
me  that  they  were  willing  to  share  the  responsibility 
with  me.  The  judge  hesitated,  for  he  evidently  sus 
pected  mischief.  But  he  finally  made  the  assignment, 
at  the  same  time  remarking  with  emphasis,  "  None 
of  your  deviltry,  gentlemen !" 

I  promptly  said  that  "  I  did  not  quite  comprehend 
the  scope  of  his  Honor's  observation.  •  Were  we  to 
defend  the  fellow  in  earnest,  to  get  him  acquitted  if 
we 'could,  or  were  we  only  to  go  through  the  motions 
in  a  formal  and  perfunctory  manner?  I  was  indiffer 
ent  which  course  should  be  taken,  but  I  would  like 
to  understand  in  advance  which  his  Honor  preferred." 

"  Oh,  no !"  said  he.  "  No  formality.  You  are  to 
get  the  fellow  off  if  you  can.  You  are  to  do  your 
best.  I  do  not  think  you  will  find  it  an  easy  matter," 
he  said  very  significantly. 

The  jury  was  impanelled  and  the  trial  proceeded. 
I  should  think  the  prosecuting  attorney  proved  about 
two  hundred  offences,  and  might  easily  have  proved 
a  few  hundred  more  by  the  same  witnesses.  He  then 
rested  his  case.  I  arose  with  a  perfectly  serious  face 
and  read  out  a  long  list  of  witnesses,  comprising  sev 
eral  physicians  and  some  of  the  most  dignified  mem 
bers  of  the  bar. 

"  What  do  you  intend  to  prove  by  these  witnesses?" 
demanded  the  judge. 

I  replied,  with  solemnity  of  speech  and  expression, 


212  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

that  my  witnesses  were  principally  experts.  "  I  am 
instructed,  sir,"  I  said,  "  by  my  unfortunate  and  perse 
cuted  client  that  he  is  a  law-abiding  citizen,  innocent 
of  any  intent  to  violate  the  law ;  that  the  fluid  vended 
by  him  was  not  intoxicating ;  that  it  was  purchased 
from  a  dealer  in  Whitehall,  who  watered  it  so  as  to 
remove  its  intoxicating  properties  before  it  was  per 
mitted  to  enter  our  State.  In  order  to  be  perfectly 
safe,  my  unfortunate  client  watered  it  again.  He 
instructs  me  that  no  one  was  ever  intoxicated  by  it. 
He  says  that  in  some  cases  where  his  patrons  had 
purchased  at  the  town  agency  a  glass  of  beer  in  the 
early  morning,  they  will  testify  that  they  came  to 
his  place  and  drank  of  this  fluid  all  the  day  long — that 
the  more  they  drank  the  soberer  they  grew,  and  when 
at  bedtime  they  severally  retired  to  their  virtuous 
couches,  they  were  not  only  perfectly  sober,  but  in 
spired  by  a  firm  determination  in  future  to  live 
upright  and  temperate  lives.  I  intend  also  to  have 
liberal  samples  of  the  fluid  brought  into  court,  and  its 
non-intoxicating  effects  demonstrated  in  the  person 
of  the  sheriff  or  other  officer  of  the  court. " 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind !"  exclaimed  the 
judge.  "  The  impudence  of  your  offer  alone  prevents 
my  punishing  you  for  making  it.  Positively  it  is 
the  most  impudent  proposition  I  ever  heard  made  in 
court.  Your  unfortunate  client  sold  this  stuff  for 
whiskey,  and  whiskey  it  will  be  taken  to  be  for  the 
purposes  of  this  trial.  I  rule  against  your  offer.  If 
you  have  any  other  witnesses  call  them !" 

"Very  well,"  I  said.  "If  the  court  rejects  my 
evidence  I  must  submit.  I  have  no  other  wit 
nesses." 

The  State's  attorney  said  that  he  did  not  wish  to 


HUMOR  OF  THE  JUNIOR  BAR.  213 

argue  the  case  to  the  jury — that  there  was  nothing 
to  argue.  The  court  agreed  with  him  and  was 
about  to  direct  a  verdict  of  guilty,  when  I  interposed 
and  insisted  upon  my  right  to  address  the  jury. 

"  What  questions  do  you  wish  to  argue?"  asked 
Judge  B. 

I  replied  that  this  was  a  prosecution  against  the 
respondent  for  a  high  crime.  It  was  a  case  in  which 
the  jurors  were  judges  of  the  law  as  well  as  of  the 
fact.  That  I  had  recently  made  a  thorough  exami 
nation  of  the  authorities,  and  I  was  prepared  to  show 
by  a  very  large  number  of  cases,  beginning  with  the 
"  Year  Books  "  and  ending  with  a  very  recent  case 
in  Texas,  that  it  was  the  duty  of  the  court  to  instruct 
the  jury  that  in  this  case  the  jury  had  the  right  to 
determine  the  law. 

"The  question  is  one  of  great  interest,"  I  said, 
"and  I  hope  by  an  exhaustive  discussion  of  the  cases 
to  satisfy  the  court  that  my  view  of  the  law  is  ac 
curate  and  sound." 

"  No,  sir !  No,  sir !"  exclaimed  his  Honor.  "  Do 
you  ask  me  to  sit  here  and  hear  you  tell  the  jury  that 
they  know  what  the  law  is  better  than  the  court? 
Your  proposition  is  an  insult.  I  think  you  know 
better.  I  have  a  great  mind  to  commit  you  for  con 
tempt  in  making  the  offer." 

"  Oh,  no !"  I  said.  "  Do  not  do  that.  In  the  first 
place,  instead  of  entertaining  a  contempt  for  this  court 
your  Honor  knows  how  sincerely  I  honor  and  respect 
the  court.  In  the  next,  when  I  go  to  jail  it  must  be 
for  a  client  who  can  pay.  I  submit  to  your  Honor's 
ruling  and  take  my  seat.  With  your  Honor's  per 
mission  I  should  be  pleased  to  withdraw  from  the 


214  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

"  Where  is  the  prisoner?  Where  is  your  unfortu 
nate  client?"  suddenly  demanded  the  judge. 

One  of  my  associates  now  rose  and  said  that  he 
had  been  waiting  a  long  time  for  an  opportunity  to 
address  the  court,  but  he  thought  it  would  be  im 
proper  to  break  in  upon  the  instructive  and  interest 
ing  colloquy  between  the  court  and  one  of  the  counsel ; 
that  he  understood  that  in  the  English  courts, 
whence  we  derived  our  common  law,  when  the  plain 
tiff's  case  broke  down  and  he  was  permitted  to  with 
draw  a  juror,  it  was  the  correct  practice  for  his  lead 
ing  counsel  to  rise  and  say  to  the  court : 

"M'  Lud,  I  see  only  eleven  jurors  in  the  box!" 

"Mr.  B.,  if  you  know  where  the  prisoner  is,  you 
had  better  say  so  and  omit  all  this  rigmarole." 

"  Oh !  very  well.  If  your  Honor  does  not  wish  to 
hear  me,  I  will  resume  my  seat.  I  was  about  to 
make  a  communication  to  the  court,  but  perhaps  the 
court  can  improve  my  language,"  said  B.  with  per 
fect  imperturbability. 

"Oh!  go  on!  goon  in  your  own  way.  Only  get 
to  some  point  in  the  course  of  the  day,"  said  the 
judge,  now  becoming  irascible. 

"  Then,  sir,  I  will  resume.  Using  a  similar  formula 
I  was  about  to  say,  or  rather  if  I  had  not  been  inter 
rupted  I  should  have  said,  'Your  Honor,  I  see  no 
prisoner  in  the  box !' J: 

"Well,  sir!     Well,  sir!  and  what  then?" 

"  Then  it  occurred  to  me  that  while  my  attention 
was  absorbed  by  the  discussion  between  the  counsel 
and  your  Honor  upon  the  much-debated  question 
whether  in  this  State  the  jurors  in  a  criminal  case 
were  judges  of  the  law,  the  respondent  pressed  me 
with  the  inquiry  whether  'the  judge  wasn't  agin' 


HUMOR  OF  THE  JUNIOR  BAR.  215 

him.'  I  insisted  that  my  position  as  his  counsel, 
under  the  order  of  the  court,  did  not  require  me  to 
answer  such  an  inquiry.  He  was  persistent,  however, 
and  to  get  rid  of  him  I  finally  said  that  I  was  on 
the  whole  inclined  to  the  opinion  that  the  judge  ivas 
agin"*  him  !  Then  he  remarked  that  he  'guessed  he 
would  go  out  and  see  a  man, '  and  he  went — that  is, 
I  think  he  went,  for  I  have  not  seen  him  since." 

"  Why  did  you  not  instantly  inform  the  court  of 
his  escape?"  sternly  demanded  the  judge. 

"  Because  I  did  not  know  that  he  had  escaped. 
The  only  information  I  had  was  that,  animo  rever- 
tendi,  he  had  'gone  out  to  see  a  man.'  Observing 
that  he  did  not  return,  I  caused  inquiry  to  be  made, 
and  learned  that  when  last  seen  he  was  following  a 
wagon  in  the  direction  of  the  boundary  line  of  an  ad 
joining  county." 

"  Sheriff,  go  instantly  in  pursuit  of  the  prisoner !" 
said  the  judge.  Then  addressing  the  counsel,  "I 
think  the  court  will  give  you  some  instructions  in 
the  line  of  your  duty,"  he  said  very  significantly. 

"  Your  Honor  is  quite  right,"  rejoined  the  lawyer, 
coolly  ignoring  the  threatening  nature  of  the  intima 
tion.  "  Your  Honor  will  readily  appreciate  my  di 
lemma.  My  first  impulse  was  to  break  in  upon  your 
Honor's  very  interesting  observations  upon  the  rights 
of  jurors  and  the  court,  and  shout:  'The  prisoner 
has  skipped!'  But  I  was  restrained  by  three  power 
ful  considerations.  If  the  prisoner  was  caught  and 
convicted,  he  would  be  imprisoned,  clothed,  and  fed 
at  the  expense  of  the  county,  thereby  imposing  an  ex 
pensive  burden  on  the  tax-payers,  of  whom  I  am  one, 
and  if  left  alone  he  would  carry  the  burden  into  some 
other  county ;  secondly,  was  I  certain  enough  of  my 


216  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

premises  to  conclude  that  he  did  not  intend  to  return? 
and,  thirdly,  your  Honor  had  told  us  in  so  many 
words  to  get  him  off  if  we  could !  On  the  other 
hand,  was  I  under  any  obligation  to  give  information 
to  the  prejudice  of  my  unfortunate  client?  Before  I 
could  clearly  see  my  way  through  the  labyrinth  of 
these  conflicting  duties  the  fellow  had  got  such  a 
start  that  the  sheriff  could  probably  not  overtake 
him.  Being  in  doubt  I  thought  the  safer  course  was 
to  do  nothing,  and  I  did  it." 

The  judge  supposed  we  intended  to  ridicule  him, 
when  nothing  was  farther  from  our  purpose.  He  be 
came  very  angry,  said  that  he  would  give  us  a  lesson 
profitable  to  us  in  future ;  that  the  sheriff  would  take 
us  into  custody,  and  after  the  mid-day  intermission 
he  would  fix  upon  the  term  of  our  imprisonment  for 
contempt. 

I  observed  that  the  court  "  must  indulge  me  in  an 
objection.  We  severally  and  seriously  disclaimed 
any  intentional  disrespect  to  the  court.  No  contempt 
whatever  had  been  committed  in  the  presence  of  the 
court.  If  there  had  been  a  technical  contempt  it 
arose  out  of  our  omission  to  communicate  certain 
facts  touching  the  prisoner's  movements  outside  the 
court.  For  such  a  contempt  we  could  only  be  ad 
judged  guilty  upon  evidence  taken  after  interroga 
tories  had  been  filed  which  we  had  had  an  opportu 
nity  to  answer ;  that  nothing  would  give  us  greater 
pleasure  than  to  answer  such  interrogatories." 

I  did  not  finish  my  remarks.  The  bar  began  to 
appreciate  the  absurdity  of  the  performance  and  to 
see  that  my  objection  was  well  founded.  Father 
Needham,  the  sight  of  whose  broad,  sunny  face  was 
a  cure  for  despondency,  as  amicus  curice  took  our 


HUMOR  OF  THE  JUNIOR  BAR.  217 

side.  He  said  that  this  court  was  in  no  doubt  about 
the  respect  entertained  for  it  by  every  member  of 
the  bar ;  and  if  the  boys  had  gone  too  far,  he  knew 
they  would  apologize.  The  side  judges,  two  good- 
hearted,  hard-headed  farmers,  argued  with  their 
chief  in  an  undertone ;  a  more  genial  expression  be 
gan  to  steal  over  the  face  of  his  Honor,  and  we 
were  saved.  After  a  brief  consultation  the  presiding 
judge  said  the  court  had  decided  that  we  were  not 
guilty  of  contempt,  but  advised  us  that  it  would  be 
very  unsafe  to  repeat  the  experiment.  "  The  court  it 
self  is  in  fault  for  giving  you  such  an  opportunity  to 
conspire.  Do  you  never  meet  without  devising  some 
mischief?" 

"Very  seldom,  your  Honor,"  said  B.  in  an  under 
tone. 

"  Seriously,  then,  gentlemen,  it  is  a  grave  offence 
to  countenance  the  escape  of  a  prisoner.  It  is  a 
graver  one  to  do  anything  to  lower  the  dignity  of  the 
court.  A  time  will  come  when  you  would  no  more 
do  it  than  you  would  commit  a  felony — when  you 
will  uphold  the  dignity  of  the  tribunal  which  even 
the  judges  may  fail  to  maintain." 

To-day  I  realize  the  truth  of  these  observations. 
I  have  told  the  story,  for  it  gives  me  an  opportunity 
to  say  that  an  upright  and  a  pure  judiciary,  such  as 
long  existed  and  I  hope  still  exists,  of  which  the 
highest  court  in  the  republic  is  and  always  has  been 
a  model,  is  the  hope  of  our  republic.  When  it  ceases 
to  exist  the  republic  will  perish.  No  lawyer  young 
or  old  should  trifle  with  its  dignity  or  lower  it  in  the 
respect  of  the  public.  In  the  case  cited  our  conduct 
was  inexcusable  and  reprehensible. 

I  have  wandered  a  long  way  from  the  bar  supper. 


218  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

I  return  to  it  to  say  that  it  would  be  better  for  every 
body — the  court,  the  bar,  and  the  public — if  such  fes 
tivals  were  more  common.  Nowhere  have  I  met  a 
local  bar  where  there  was  less  of  jealousy  and  envy, 
more  of  hearty  good- will  and  desire  to  assist  each 
other,  than  among  those  who  annually  sat  at  our 
table  in  Addison  County.  Here  is  one  of  their  char 
acteristic  illustrations.  One  of  our  number,  a  man 
of  a  great,  generous  heart,  a  gentleman  by  birth, 
instinct,  and  education,  could  not  succeed  in  the  pro 
fession  and  became  poor.  We  seldom  met  him  with 
out  putting  into  his  empty  pockets  something  from 
our  own,  which  were  but  scantily  furnished.  He 
had  an  old  case  on  the  calendar  which  was  to  be  tried 
or  dismissed.  We  saw  that  he  was  in  great  distress 
and  ascertained  the  cause.  His  client  had  betrayed 
him  to  his  adversary.  If  he  did  not  recover,  or  if 
the  case  was  dismissed,  he  would  lose  his  own  costs 
and  charges  and  have  to  pay  the  costs  of  the  defend 
ant  for  which  he  was  bound.  We  examined  the  case 
and  decided  that  he  was  entitled  to  recover.  I  think 
about  ten  of  us  volunteered  to  assist  him  on  the  trial. 
Two  were  to  be  the  active  counsel ;  the  others  were 
to  look  wise,  smile  upon  us,  and  frown  upon  the  de 
fendant.  We  recovered,  and  our  friend  got  his 
money.  We  would  not  permit  him  to  share  it  with 
us  or  give  it  away,  and  it  gave  him  a  couple  of  happy 
years.  I  recall  with  a  thrill  of  delight  his  blue, 
moistened  eye,  his  thin  lips  tremulous  with  emotion, 
when  with  clasped  hands,  seated  around  our  table, 
all  sang — or  if  they  could  not  sing  declared — that 

"  He  is  a  jolly  good  fellow — good  fellow — good  fellow ! 
Which  nobody  can  deny. " 


HUMOR  OF  THE  JUNIOR  BAR.  219 

But  now  the  hour  of  separation  comes.  Again 
H.  N.  shakes  his  350  pounds  avoirdupois  and  the  very 
foundations  of  the  hall  with  the  last  story  from  the 
mountain  hamlet  where  he  reigns.  If  there  is  a  lull 
the  three  B.s  or  S.  will  fill  it  with  a  new  verse  to  the 
old  song,  while  the  venerable  judges  in  unison  de 
clare  : 

"We  won't  go  home  till  morning,  till  morning,  till  morning. " 

"  And  Linsley  still  contributes 

From  his  stock  a  single  leaf, 
And  reads  with  deep  emotion 

From  old  Judge  Keyes's  brief. 
And  if  the  cars  don't  leave  meantime, 

We  shall  be  very  lucky  ; 

For  he'll  stay  and  sing  his  favorite  song — which? 
The  Hunters  of  Kentucky — O  !  Kentucky  ! 
The  Hunters  of  Kentucky. " 

And  now  the  gray  dawn  is  creeping  over  the  val 
ley  ;  we  know  that  the  top  of  Ripton  mountain  is  al 
ready  aflame  and  that  the  court-house  bell  waits  for 
no  man.  The  judges  in  their  easy-chairs  may  close 
their  eyes,  and  while  apparently  buried  in  deep  re 
flection  may  go  to  sleep.  But  we  must  clear  the  dust 
from  our  eyes  and  the  cobwebs  from  our  throats  and 
be  prepared  to  argue  our  cases  when  they  are  reached 
in  their  order. 

Our  chairman  rises — the  gavel  falls  for  the  last 
time.  It  is  the  signal  for  every  guest  to  stand  upon 
his  feet.  The  rich  voice  of  one  of  the  brothers  S. 
leads  and  every  one  joins  in  the  well-known  words 
which  always  unite  our  hands  in  a  strong  and  cordial 
grasp : 


220  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

"Now  here's  a  hand,  my  trusty  fiere, 

And  gie's  a  hand  o'  thine  ; 
An'  we'll  tak'  a  right  guid  willie-waught 

For  auld  lang  syne  ! 
And  surely  ye'll  be  your  pint-stoup, 

And  surely  I'll  be  mine, 
And  we'll  tak'  a  cup  o'  kindness  yet 

For  auld  lang  syne. 

"  For  auld  lang  sync,  my  dear, 

For  auld  lang  syne, 
We'll  tak'  a  cup  o'  kindness  yet 
For  auld  lang  syne. " 

The  last  note  of  the  good  old  song  dies  away.  We 
have  had  our  "uproar  long  and  loud,"  but  it  is  ended 
now.  Our  hearts  are  very  full  of  friendship  and  good 
will  one  to  another.  We  say  good-by  and  go  away 
to  our  several  duties,  warmer  friends,  better  citizens, 
and  better  lawyers.  Honored  and  cherished  be  the 
memories  of  the  festival  for  the  pleasure  it  gave  me 
at  the  time  and  for  the  satisfaction  which  this  slight 
notice  of  it  has  given  to  me  after  these  many  years. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 
OWLS,  FALCONS,  AND  EAGLES. 

WHEN  Minerva  selected  the  owl  as  the  chief  at 
traction  of  her  aviary,  she  must  have  judged  him  by 
his  face  rather  than  by  his  character.  For  no  biped 
or  quadruped  was  ever  created  so  profoundly  wise  as 
he  looks  to  be,  and  none  ever  established  a  character 
more  questionable.  From  the  little  wretch  whose 
fearful  screech  stirs  the  blood  of  the  hunter  in  the 
wilderness  to  the  big  fellow  in  snowy  plumage  with 
the  surname  of  Nyctea,  all  are  thieves,  and  some  are 
bold  robbers  with  the  silent  movements  of  the  burglar. 
There  is  a  female  of  the  Virginianus  family  that 
looks  down  upon  my  library  table  from  the  top  of  a 
book-case,  whose  first  acquaintance  I  have  permanent 
cause  to  remember.  She  is  nearly  one-third  larger 
than  her  spouse,  she  was  mistress  of  the  family,  and 
was  very  sure  to  be  quartering  the  country  on  some 
marauding  excursion  while  her  mate  in  the  dark 
forest  was  frightening  children  with  his  dreadfully 
mournful  "  Hoo-hoo-hoo !  Ho-hoo !"  which  gives  him 
the  Indian  name  of  "ooloo,"  or  the  devil,  and  the 
common  one  of  the  "hooting  or  great  horned  owl." 
The  only  good  I  ever  heard  of  him  is  that  his  brain 
cures  fits  in  children,  especially  those  into  which  they 
are  frightened  by  his  funereal  wail. 

I  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Madame  Strix  of 

my  library  after  this  wise.     I  had  killed  a  full-grown 

221 


222  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

mallard  which  fell  upon  the  river  bank,  and  had  re 
loaded  my  gun,  when  a  large  object  passed  over  me 
as  noiseless  as  a  shadow.  It  swooped  down  toward 
the  ground,  and  when  it  rose  in  an  ascending  curve  I 
saw  that  it  was  this  female  robber,  and  that  she  was 
carrying  off  my  mallard  before  my  very  face.  I  sent 
a  charge  of  number  six  shot  after  her,  and  some  of 
the  pellets  must  have  collided  with  her  shoulder-blade 
or  ulna.,  for  she  sailed  gracefully  to  the  ground,  re 
leasing  the  duck  from  her  talons  as  she  fell. 

I  first  secured  the  duck — a  large  one  weighing,  I 
suppose,  over  three  pounds,  and  measuring  two  feet 
in  length,  apparently  larger  and  heavier  than  its 
rapacious  captor.  As  I  noticed  the  ease  with  which 
Madame  Strix  carried  this  great  bird  in  her  flight,  I 
queried  for  a  moment  whether  there  might  not  be 
some  color  of  truth  in  the  annually  recurring  story 
of  the  carrying  away  of  un regenerate  babes  by  the 
white-headed  eagle.  With  this  thought  in  my  mind 
I  approached  the  owl,  which,  instantly  throwing  her 
self  upon  her  back,  presented  what  the  prize-fighter 
would  have  called  her  "fives"  with  such  dexterity 
that  she  appeared  on  her  under  side  to  be  made  of 
claws.  I  carelessly  touched  her  with  the  tip  of  my 
right  foot,  when,  presto !  in  an  instant  there  was  a 
sensation  as  though  the  calf  of  my  leg  had  been  seized 
with  hot  pinchers.  Madame  had  struck  her  sharp 
talons  through  the  hard  leather  of  my  hunting-boot 
deep  into  my  leg  with  a  grasp  ot  intense  energy, 
producing  a  very  painful  sensation.  Had  it  been 
practicable  I  would  have  compromised  by  a  sur 
render  of  the  duck,  for  although  I  might  crush  out 
the  life  of  the  bird  I  knew  that  fierce  grip  would  be 
maintained,  though  it  might  tear  out  the  very  mus- 


OWLS,  FALCONS,  AND  EAGLES.  223 

cles  of  my  limb,  which  could  have  been  done  without 
much  increase  of  the  pain.  Fortunately  there  was 
in  my  game-bag  a  bottle  of  chloroform,  which  I  used 
to  destroy  the  life  of  the  specimens  I  wished  to  pre 
serve  without  injury  to  their  plumage.  To  saturate 
a  handkerchief  with  the  anesthetic  and  throw  it  over 
the  head  of  my  temporary  captor  was  the  work  of 
a  moment.  Kelaxation  of  the  fierce  grasp  and  ces 
sation  of  the  pain  speedily  followed,  and  Madame 
Strix  fell  into  the  sleep  that  knows  no  waking.  I 
never  allowed  her  to  return  to  this  life.  I  believe 
she  carries  fiercer  weapons,  operated  by  a  more  power 
ful  muscle  than  any  rapacious  bird  of  my  acquaint 
ance. 

THE  OSPREY,  OR  FISH-HAWK. 

No  rapacious  bird  possesses  a  character  so  unex 
ceptionable  as  the  fish-hawk.  The  largest  of  our 
falcons  except  the  eagle,  provided  with  powerful 
pinions  and  fierce  talons  and  with  an  appetite  which 
is  seldom  satiated,  he  never  invades  the  poultry-yard 
or  any  of  the  possessions  of  the  farmer.  He  subsists 
wholly  upon  fish,  preferably  upon  species  which  the 
fisherman  would  willingly  have  exterminated.  No 
sportsman  ever  injures  the  fish-hawk,  and  to  destroy 
one  of  their  nests  is  supposed  to  be  a  certain  way  of 
incurring  bad  luck  and  heavy  misfortune. 

The  fish-hawk  is  the  only  bird  which  constructs  its 
nest  in  the  most  prominent  and  conspicuous  localities, 
where  it  cannot  fail  to  attract  attention.  A  dead 
tree  of  large  diameter,  with  a  few  branches  capable 
of  sustaining  great  weight,  standing  on  a  point 
formed  by  an  Adirondack  river,  visible  for  miles  in 
every  direction,  is  the  favorite  nesting-place  of  this 


224  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

splendid  bird.  Here  both  male  and  female  labor  in 
the  construction  of  the  nest.  It  is  made  of  dried 
branches,  some  of  them  as  thick  as  the  wrist,  with 
grasses  or  any  soft  material  in  the  centre.  It  is  oc 
cupied  by  the  same  pair  year  after  year,  and  as  they 
annually  make  additions  to  it,  it  sometimes  reaches 
the  dimensions  of  a  small  haystack.  The  young 
never  leave  it  until  they  are  full  grown  and  each 
one  is  able  to  "  go  a-fishing"  on  his  own  account. 

There  was  for  many  years,  and  I  hope  still  is,  one 
of  these  nests  on  the  outlet  of  the  beautiful  Raquette 
Lake.  As  we  passed  it  late  one  September  afternoon, 
two  young  and  nearly  full-grown  birds  showed  them 
selves,  sitting  upon  its  edge.  We  had  reached  the 
lake  and  were  slowly  moving  along  its  bold  southern 
shore,  when  I  noticed  the  female  fish-hawk  sailing 
high  above  our  heads  on  the  lookout  for  the  evening 
meal  of  her  family.  Through  a  strong  field-glass,  by 
lying  on  my  back  in  the  stern  of  the  boat,  I  had 
an  excellent  opportunity  to  observe  her  movements. 
Using  the  trees  on  the  shore  for  comparison,  I  esti 
mated  her  elevation  to  be  not  less  than  two  hundred 
feet  above  the  water.  She  suddenly  dropped  like  an 
arrow,  her  talons  downward,  and  struck  so  near  the 
boat  that  the  water  dashed  over  us»  She  had  some 
difficulty  in  rising,  and  only  did  so  after  a  consider 
able  struggle.  When  she  succeeded,  she  carried  with 
her  a  four-pound  pickerel  which  she  held  in  both  her 
claws,  one  stuck  into  its  shoulders,  the  other  just 
above  its  anal  orifice.  She  was  slowly  moving  up 
ward  uttering  her  screams  of  triumph,  when  a  rev 
erend  gentleman,  my  accidental  companion  in  the  bow 
of  the  boat,  fired  both  barrels  of  his  gun  in  her  direc 
tion  Fortunately  he  was  not  marksman  enough  to 


OWLS,  FALCONS,  AND  EAGLES.  225 

hit  a  barn-door,  and  the  hawk  was  untouched.  The 
brave  bird  would  not  drop  her  prey.  She  continued 
to  ascend,  screaming  her  contempt  at  the  pot-hunter, 
until  she  had  attained  her  former  elevation,  when  she 
sailed  away  in  the  direction  of  her  nest.  I  watched 
her  until  she  reached  it  and  deposited  the  pickerel 
in  the  midst  of  her  hungry  family. 

The  reader  who  is  unacquainted  with  the  word- 
picture  by  Wilson,  the  ornithologist,  of  the  robbery 
of  the  fish-hawk  by  the  white-headed  eagle  has  yet 
to  enjoy  a  fine  example  of  descriptive  writing.  These 
robberies  are  not  infrequent,  and  I  witnessed  one  of 
them  which  was  not  a  successful  experiment.  It 
occurred  on  the  shore  of  Long  Lake. 

At  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing,  on  a  point 
which  extended  into  the  lake  from  its  western  shore 
under  Buck  Mountain,  there  was  a  grove  of  white 
pine  trees.  In  the  largest  of  these  was  the  nest  of  a 
pair  of  eagles.  They  had  nested  there  for  many 
years.  Sabattis,  then  a  man  of  fifty,  could  not  re 
member  a  year  when  it  was  not  so  occupied.  By 
annual  additions  it  had  grown  to  an  enormous  size 
and  was  visible  for  miles.  These  eagles  were  mas 
ters  of  the  lake,  and  it  was  not  often  visited  by  the 
ospreys,  even  upon  a  fishing  excursion. 

One  morning,  from  my  camp  at  the  outlet,  I  noticed 
a  pair  of  ospreys  with  two  young  but  full-grown 
birds  in  the  trees  on  the  eastern  shore.  The  old 
birds  were  training  the  young  ones  in  capturing  small 
fish,  which  I  thought  were  yellow  perch,  near  the 
shore.  One  of  the  young  birds  made  a  circuit  farther 
up  the  lake  and  struck  a  lake  trout.  He  had  some 
difficulty  in  rising  from  the  water,  but  slowly  suc 
ceeded.  Before  he  took  his  course  toward  the  place 
15 


226  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

where  the  parent  birds  were  on  the  watch,  a  young 
eagle  dashed  out  from  the  point  and  with  a  fierce 
scream  started  in  pursuit.  At  the  same  moment  the 
old  osprfeys  started  to  defend  their  young.  They 
were  not  in  time.  The  eagle  had  almost  reached  the 
young  hawk,  when  it  dropped  the  fish.  The  eagle 
did  not  seize  it  before  it  struck  the  water,  and  in 
four  or  five  similar  cases  I  never  saw  the  fish  caught 
in  its  descent.  While  the  eagle  was  struggling  to 
rise  after  it  had  seized  the  fish,  and  before  he  was 
twenty  feet  from  the  water,  one  of  the  ospreys  made 
a  swoop  and  struck  his  claws  into  the  eagle  with 
such  force  that  both  went  into  the  lake,  where  they 
separated.  As  the  eagle  rose  a  second  time  it  was 
struck  by  the  second  osprey  and  again  forced  into 
the  lake.  I  think  he  was  struck  in  this  manner  four 
times,  when  the  old  eagles  came  to  his  rescue  and 
the  ospreys  retired,  screaming  defiance,  and  one  of 
them  carrying  the  fish  which  had  been  the  cause  of 
the  contest.  But  the  eagle  was  disabled  and  could 
not  rise.  One  of  the  guides  went  for  him  in  a  boat, 
but  before  he  could  reach  him  he  was  drowned.  His 
back  was  found  to  have  been  so  torn  by  the  talons 
of  the  fish-hawks  that  the  wounds  would  have  been 
mortal  if  he  had  fallen  upon  the  shore. 

In  the  early  days  of  March  in  a  subsequent  year 
I  was  in  the  shop  of  Mr.  Hurst,  a  taxidermist  in 
Albany,  when  he  received  by  express  from  some  place 
in  the  Adirondacks  two  young  eagles  which  had 
evidently  been  killed  a  few  days  before.  They  were 
covered  with  a  cream-colored  down  and  only  a  few 
primaries  and  tail-feathers  had  just  commenced  their 
growth.  They  were  probably  about  a  month  old. 
The  period  of  the  eagle's  incubation  cannot  be  less 


OWLS,  FALCONS,  AND  EAGLES.  227 

than  thirty  days,  consequently  the  eggs  in  this  case 
must  have  been  laid  in  December  or  January.  How 
they  could  have  been  protected  from  the  cold  in  a 
locality  where  the  mercury  often  fell  below  zero  is  a 
question  for  every  one  to  settle  for  himself.  Obvi 
ously  the  male  must  have  taken  a  part  in  the  process 
of  incubation. 

The  eagle  is  a  mighty  hunter.  The  remnants  of 
half -consumed  fish,  rabbits,  ruffed  grouse,  and  other 
birds  were  so  numerous  about  the  nest  that  the  car 
rion  stench  sometimes  floated  to  our  camp,  a  mile 
below.  The  quick  digestion  and  rapacious  appetites 
of  such  a  family  must  have  been  liberally  supplied 
when  the  remains  of  the  feast  were  so  abundant. 

The  pines  are  no  longer  to  be  seen.  The  lumber 
man  has  invaded  Long  Lake,  and  with  the  pines  the 
nest  of  the  eagles  has  gone,  thus  establishing  another 
crime  for  which  the  invaders  of  what  ought  to  be  a 
preserve  are  responsible. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 
NOVELTIES  OF  OFFICIAL  EXPERIENCE. 

I  CANNOT  expect  my  readers  to  get  as  much  enter 
tainment  as  I  did  out  of  some  of  my  early  experi 
ences  in  the  Treasury,  which  were  not  provided  for 
in  the  regulations.  But  I  will  describe  two  or  three 
of  them  on  the  chance  that  they  may  be  found  worth 
reading. 

One  morning  within  the  first  month  of  my  official 
life  I  found  upon  my  table  a  box  of  mahogany,  inlaid 
with  silver,  bearing  a  tablet  on  which  was  engraved 
my  name  with  ''Honorable"  conspicuously  prefixed. 
When  opened,  I  found,  reposing  upon  a  velvet-lined 
interior,  a  pair  of  revolvers,  silver  and  ivory  mounted 
and  decorated  in  a  very  exquisite  style.  •  There  was 
a  note  requesting  my  acceptance  of  the  box  from  the 
agent  of  a  corporation  which  had  constant  dealings 
with  the  department.  Inquiry  of  my  colored  mes 
senger  disclosed  that  the  box  had  been  placed  upon 
my  table  by  a  clerk  whose  duty  it  was  to  enter  checks 
for  the  payment  of  accounts  in  the  order  of  their  re 
ceipt  from  the  Secretary,  and  to  present  them  to  the 
Register  for  signature,  after  which  they  were  sent  by 
mail  to  the  payees.  It  was  a  matter  in  which  the 
clerk  had  no  discretion.  But  he  could,  by  violating 
his  instructions,  occasionally  advance  the  payment 
of  a  check  for  a  few  days,  and  by  a  manipulation  of 
his  books  conceal  the  irregularity.  Some  of  these 
checks  were  for  large  amounts,  so  that  a  few  days 

228 


NOVELTIES  OF  OFFICIAL  EXPERIENCE.         229 

saved  would  be  a  great  convenience  to  the  payees  as 
well  as  a  considerable  saving  of  interest.  This  clerk 
had  held  the  position  for  many  years,  and  found  it 
very  difficult  to  maintain  his  family  on  a  salary  of 
only  $1,400  per  year. 

The  clerk  was  summoned,  and  entered  with  that 
fawning  obsequiousness  which  was  common  between 
clerks  of  a  higher  and  a  lower  grade,  and  which  was  so 
offensive  that  I  put  an  end  to  it  with  the  first  op 
portunity.  Bowing  and  scraping,  he  began  to  speak 
as  he  advanced.  He  begged  my  pardon  for  his  as 
surance,  but  the  agent  of  the  -  -  corporation  had 
presented  every  in-coming  Register  with  a  pair  of 
the  revolvers  made  by  the  company.  He  had  left  the 
box  with  him,  with  a  request  that  it  might  be  laid, 
with  his  compliments,  on  the  Register's  table ! 

I  told  this  clerk  when  he  next  addressed  me  to  re 
member  that  he  was  an  officer  of  the  Treasury  and  a 
man — not  a  menial ;  to  stand  upright  and  look  me  in 
the  face. 

"  Now  tell  me,"  I  said,  "  do  you  say  that  this  pres 
entation  was  made  in  pursuance  of  a  custom?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir !  It  has  always  been.  At  all  events, 
ever  since  I  have  been  in  the  bureau,  whenever  a 
new  Register  was  appointed.  No  objection  was  ever 
made  to  it." 

"  Have  you  received  such  presents?"  I  asked. 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  answered.  "And  so  have  others. 
The  agent  has  said  to  me  that  the  corporation  had  so 
many  drafts  coming  through  the  Treasury  that  it 
was  very  important  to  them  to  have  their  business 
done  promptly.  They  would  consider  it  a  favor  if  I 
would  accept  a  little  present  occasionally.  It  is  dif 
ficult,  sir,  to  live  upon  our  small  salaries." 


230  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

I  told  the  clerk  that  out  of  consideration  for  his 
family  I  would  not  remove  him  for  this  grave  of 
fence.  But  he  must  return  my  present,  and  that 
thereafter  any  employee  of  the  bureau  who  accepted 
any  present  from  any  one  having  business  with  it 
would  be  instantly  removed  when  the  facts  came  to 
my  knowledge. 

This  treatment  broke  up  the  custom  of  accepting 
presents.  But  it  was  felt  to  be  a  great  hardship  by 
the  old  employees.  It  was  regarded  as  depriving 
them  of  a  legitimate  means  of  adding  to  their 
income. 

I  wish  I  could  write  a  sentence  of  such  power  that 
it  would  induce  Congress  to  make  for  these  poor 
clerks  in  the  department  such  compensation  as  they 
deserve.  I  have  no  words  strong  enough  to  express 
the  views  on  this  subject  which  I  entertain.  There 
were  several  hundred  of  them  in  my  bureau.  Their 
salaries  were  fixed  long  ago,  when  money  had 
double  its  purchasing  power  in  I860.  When  the  war 
came  on  these  salaries  were  made  subject  to  a  heavy 
internal  revenue  tax,  and  they  were  paid  in  currency, 
which  once  fell  to  a  discount  of  sixty  per  cent.  Yet 
they  served  the  Government  with  such  fidelity  that 
there  was  absolutely  no  loss  by  their  error  or  fraud. 
A  more  industrious,  faithful  body  of  public  servants 
could  not  exist.  If  their  compensation  were  increased 
fifty  per  cent  from  its  present  rate,  no  injustice  would 
be  done  the  country  and  only  scant  justice  to  them. 

In  the  first  year,  and  in  fact  through  the  whole 
war,  there  were  in  Washington  many  chevaliers 
&  Industrie,  who  were  well  dressed  and  preserved 
the  bearing  of  gentlemen,  but  who  had  no  visible 
means  of  support.  I  was  to  learn  from  a  peculiar 


NOVELTIES  OF  OFFICIAL  EXPERIENCE.         231 

and  not  very  agreeable  experience  how  one  of  them 
managed  to  meet  the  demands  of  the  butcher,  the 
baker,  and  the  candlestick  maker. 

I  have  always  been  conscious  of  a  personal  defect 
which  through  all  my  life  has  been  a  great  obstacle 
to  my  success.  It  is  a  positive  inability  to  recognize 
the  names  or  the  faces  of  gentlemen  whom  I  ought 
to  know.  ISTo  year  has  passed  in  which  I  have  not 
offended  good  friends  by  passing  them  in  the  street 
without  recognition,  or  'in  some  way  giving  them 
the  impression  of  my  deliberate  intention  to  slight 
them.  As  the  defect  wcs  one  which  I  could  not  rem 
edy,  I  have  endeavored  to  atone  for  it  by  invariably 
seeming  to  recognize  every  one  who  first  recognized 
me. 

At  a  Presidential  reception  one  evening,  early  in 
1862,  when  I  was  in  conversation  with  the  Marshal 
of  the  District,  a  well-dressed  gentleman  bowed  to 
me  with  an  air  of  familiar  recognition,  and  I  nat 
urally  returned  his  salute.  After  he  had  passed,  but 
while  he  was  still  within  view,  I  asked : 

"Marshal,  who  is  that  gentleman?  He  always 
bows  to  mo.  Evidently  he  is  some  one  whom  I 
ought  to  know ;  but  I  am  wholly  unable  to  recall  his 
name  or  where  I  have  met  him.  What  is  his  name 
and  position?" 

The  marshal's  face  assumed  a  look  of  unmistakable 
surprise.  "  Well,  now,  that  is  excellent,"  he  said. 
"  Do  you  tell  me  that  you  do  not  know  that  gentle 
man,  and  ask  me  his  name  and  occupation?  Come, 
now!  You  don't  mean  that.  You  cannot  be  seri 
ous.  You  must  know  him  much  better  than  you  do 
me." 

"  I  assure  you  that  I  was  never  more  serious.     I 


232  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

have  met  him  in  the  street,  possibly  in  my  office-, 
but  I  cannot  remember  that  I  have  ever  spoken  to  him 
or  had  any  business  with  him.  I  think  I  must  have 
had,  for  he  always  recognizes  me  with  the  air  of  a 
familiar  acquaintance." 

"Well,  well!"  he  said.  "This  is  very  rich.  If 
anything  could  astonish  me  your  statement  would. 
That  man  is  Major  G.,  of  New  York.  He  is  under 
stood  to  be  not  only  a  very  old  friend  of  the  Register 
of  the  Treasury,  but  a  species  of  business  adviser. 
That  officer  is  supposed  frequently  to  avail  himself 
of  the  major's  long  experience  in  Washington  and 
his  knowledge  of  affairs.  He  has  the  entree  to  the 
department  at  all  times  and  access  to  the  Register. 
It  is  rather  unkind  of  you  to  say  that  you  do  not 
know  such  an  old  and  influential  friend." 

"  I  shall  have  to  do  it,  nevertheless.  I  now,  upon 
reflection,  do  remember  that  I  have  seen  him  in  the 
bureau,  where  I  supposed  he  had  some  business. 
However,  I  can  leave  him  to  enjoy  his  supposed  re 
lations,  since  they  do  me  no  harm." 

"  You  do  not  quite  understand  the  pecuniary  value 
of  such  a  relation,"  said  the  marshal.  "The  major 
contrives  to  make  money,  and  a  considerable  amount 
of  money,  by  it." 

"  How  is  that  possible?"  I  asked. 

"  The  city  is  thronged  with  contractors  and  men 
who  have  claims  which  are  constantly  passing 
through  the  Treasury.  It  is  a  good  thing  for  them 
to  have  a  friend  at  court  who  can  get  their  claims 
taken  up  and  passed  upon  out  of  their  order — who 
can  ascertain  just  when  they  will  be  paid  or  assist  in 
procuring  their  early  payment.  Such  services  are 
valuable.  Contractors  are  willing  to  pay  for  them. 


NOVELTIES  OF  OFFICIAL  EXPERIENCE.         233 

The  major  is  understood  to  earn  a  very  fair  income 
out  of  his  close  relations  with  you." 

"That  cannot  be  possible.  There  is  not  a  man 
living  who  could  advance  the  payment  or  allowance 
of  a  claim  by  so  much  as  one  hour.  The  regulations 
prohibit  all  such  favoritism." 

"  No  doubt  such  is  the  fact,  but  strangers  are  not 
aware  of  it,  and  Major  G.  is  not  the  only  man  who 
does  business  here  on  the  capital  of  his  influential 
position.  He  has  some  facilities  for  obtaining  in 
formation  from  your  office.  How  otherwise  could  he 
tell  on  what  day  a  check  for  an  account  would  be 
drawn?" 

"That  is  possible  by  co-operation  with  a  clerk. 
But  this  could  only  happen  when  accounts  to  a  large 
amount  had  been  liquidated,  only  a  certain  propor 
tion  of  which  could  be  paid  daily.  Such  informa 
tion  would  be  restricted  to  two  or  three  days  in  every 
case  and  could  not  be  of  much  value." 

"  It  is  of  value  enough  to  trade  upon, "  said  the 
marshal.  "If  you  make  inquiry  I  think  you  will 
find  that  much  of  this  business  is  transacted  and 
that  it  is  regarded  by  many  as  legitimate." 

I  was  disposed  to  do  Major  G.  no  injustice.  I  asked 
a  city  friend  who  had  claims  passing  through  the 
Treasury  to  look  into  the  matter  in  his  own  way. 
Major  G.  rose  to  the  first  cast  of  the  fly.  For  a 
moderate  per  cent  on  the  amount  of  his  collections 
the  major  agreed  to  give  my  friend  all  the  advantages 
of  his  intimacy  with  the  Register,  and  hinted  that 
when  it  became  very  important  to  his  principal  he 
could  procure  the  payment  of  a  claim  by  increasing 
the  pressure.  In  such  cases  the  commission  must  be 
increased,  for  it  must  be  divided  with  others. 


234  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

The  next  morning  a  written  order  was  delivered  to 
the  doorkeeper  and  posted  upon  the  doors  of  all  the 
rooms  in  the  Register's  office  which  had  any  connec-* 
tion  with  payments,  to  the  effect  that  under  no  cir 
cumstances  would  Major  G.  be  permitted  to  enter 
that  office  or  any  room  under  the  Register's  control, 
except  upon  the  written  order  of  the  Secretary  of  the 
Treasury.  This  order  was  the  subject  of  much  com 
ment,  and  the  authority  of  the  Register  to  make  it 
was  fiercely  disputed.  It  had  the  effect  to  convert 
the  major  into  a  watchful  spy  upon  all  the  official 
and  personal  conduct  of  the  Register.  But  it  broke 
up  his  business,  and  I  never  heard  afterward  that 
any  one  trading  upon  his  acquaintance  with  the 
Register  of  the  Treasury  was  able  to  make  it  profit 
able. 

We  all  had  to  watch  the  balances  of  our  bank  ac 
counts  very  closely  when  our  salaries  were  paid  in 
notes  which  were  at  a  discount  of  sixty  per  cent 
and  subject  to  a  large  internal  revenue  tax  in  addi 
tion.  In  the  beginning  of  18G2,  for  the  first  time  in 
my  life,  when  my  bank  account  was  written  up,  it 
showed  a  balance  in  my  favor  fifty  dollars  greater 
than  I  was  able  to  make  it.  This  balance  increased 
monthly  until  it  amounted  to  two  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars,  an  amount  as  unexpected  to  me  as  if  it  had 
fallen  from  the  sky.  I  wanted  it  so  much  that  I 
was  quite  contented  to  accept  it  without  very  close 
inquiry. 

In  due  time  the  explanation  came.  An  old,  a  poor 
and  very  worthy  friend  had  asked  me  to  do  what  I 
could  to  secure  for  his  son  an  appointment  to  a  clerk 
ship  of  the  first  class,  with  an  annual  salary  of  $1,200. 
I  had  recommended  him,  he  had  received  the  ap- 


NOVELTIES  OF  OFFICIAL  EXPERIENCE.         235 

pointment,  was  assigned  to  duty  in  my  own  bureau, 
and  the  matter  had  passed  from  my  mind.  One  day 
the  clerk  solicited  an  interview.  He  was  very  much 
troubled,  he  said.  Illness  in  his  family  and  the  in 
ability  of  his  father  to  assist  him  had  so  increased 
his  expenses  that  he  found  it  very  difficult  to  make 
his  payments  to  me.  Would  1  not  oblige  him  by 
postponing  a  part  of  the  amount  due  to  me  and 
permit  him  to  pay  it  out  of  his  salary  for  the 
second  year?  He  had  paid  almost  half  of  the  debt, 
but  it  was  almost  impossible  for  him  to  continue  the 
payments ! 

"What  are  you  talking  about?"  I  demanded. 
"You  owe  me  nothing.  Why  do  you  ask  me  to 
postpone  the  payment  of  a  claim  which  has  no 
existence?" 

"You  were  to  know  nothing  about  it,  I  under 
stood,"  he  said;  "but  I  wished  to  comply  with  the 
custom,  which  I  was  told  was  to  pay  for  an  appoint 
ment — one-half  the  salary  for  the  first  year!  You 
procured  the  place  for  me,  and  I  assure  you  I  will  pay 
the  balance  just  as  soon  as  I  can  save  the  money. 
There  are  $350  still  your  due !" 

I  repudiated  the  implied  contract  and  sent  him  a 
check  for  the  $250  he  had  paid  into  the  bank  to  my 
credit.  This  check  he  refused  to  present.  Years 
afterward  the  bank  wished  to  close  the  account,  and 
the  amount  was  used  by  me.  It  is  the  only  profit  I 
was  ever  conscious  of  making  out  of  my  connection 
with  the  Treasury.  Instead  of  gaining  any  credit 
for  not  collecting  the  balance  out  of  the  poor  clerk,  I 
learned  that  I  was  regarded  as  a  very  foolish  man 
who  had  neglected  his  opportunities. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 
THE  DEATH  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 

I  ONCE  thought  that  nothing  could  induce  me  to 
recall  the  events  of  the  16th  of  April,  1865.  It  was 
a  day  of  national  mourning  such  as  the  Republic 
never  saw  before,  such  as  I  devoutly  hope  it  may 
never  experience  again.  There  was  no  doubt  of  its 
sincerity.  A  stranger  would  have  said  it  was  uni 
versal,  for  the  few  who  did  not  participate  in  the  gen 
eral  sorrow  did  not  show  themselves  after  an  early 
hour  in  the  morning.  For  there  was  a  desperately 
savage  element  in  the  grief  which  pervaded  all 
classes.  The  servants  in  the  breakfast-room  of  a 
large  New  York  hotel  refused  to  take  another  order 
until  the  housekeeper  was  out  of  the  hotel.  She  had 
said  that  "Old  Lincoln  had  got  what  he  deserved." 
At  an  early  hour  on  Broadway  a  person  had  said  "  he 
was  glad  that  Lincoln  was  out  of  the  way."  The 
crowd,  by  a  common  impulse,  set  upon  him  like 
ferocious  animals.  He  was  kicked,  buffeted,  and 
stripped  almost  naked  before  the  police  could  rescue 
him.  The  same  feeling  seemed  to  pervade  all 
classes — sorrow  for  the  death  of  the  President,  a 
fierce  thirst  for  vengeance  upon  his  assassins,  some 
fears  for  the  future,  and  a  general  wish  that  the 
gloom  of  that  day  might  speedily  be  replaced  by 
brighter  hopes  and  never  again  be  recalled. 

But  time,  which  in  the  end  makes  all  things  even, 


THE  DEATH  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN.          237 

will  blunt  the  sharpest  grief.  When,  recently,  a 
highly  valued  lady  friend  placed  at  my  disposal  a 
letter  written  only  one  day  later  by  the  graceful  pen 
of  a  veteran  observer  at  the  capital,  I  learned  that  I 
could  read  of  our  great  President's  taking-off  with 
out  pain,  and  even  with  a  kind  of  chastened  pleasure. 
I  have  learned  that  a  very  general  desire  exists 
among  the  thoughtful  of  the  generation  born  since 
the  Civil  War  to  read  accounts  of  its  incidents  truth 
fully  written  by  those  who  saw  or  participated  in 
them.  I  am  permitted  to  gratify  this  desire  by  the 
publication  of  Mr.  Blair's  letter,  and  I  will  add  to  it 
some  recollections  of  my  own. 

Only  the  savage  elements  in  our  nature  find  their 
gratification  in  war.  Probably  there  never  was  a 
war  in  which  there  were  not  in  each  of  the  contend 
ing  nations  or  parties  some  who  were  wicked  and 
reckless  enough  to  be  willing  to  employ  against  their 
adversary  the  secret  skill  of  the  poisoner  and  the 
knife  and  bullet  of  the  assassin.  But  their  judgment 
is  grossly  at  fault  who  would  impute  to  a  people  or  a 
nation  the  responsibility  for  sporadic  cases  of  this 
kind  or  for  individual  cases  of  cruelty.  If  threats  of 
assassination  had  controlled  their  conduct  many  of 
our  eminent  men  in  civil  as  well  as  military  life  would 
have  been  hampered  by  a  very  constant  restraint. 
But  these  threats,  even  when  communicated  by  our 
representatives  abroad,  were  but  slightly  regarded. 
It  was  scarcely  possible  to  defend  the  President  or 
members  of  his  Cabinet  against  assassination. 
Therefore  these  threats  were  not  noticed.  Mr. 
Seward,  to  whom  was  attributed  much  of  the  wicked 
ness  of  the  Administration,  rode  almost  daily  in  his 
open  carriage.  Very  late  at  night,  and  many  nights 


238  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

in  succession,  Secretaries  Chase  and  Stanton  were 
met  on  their  way,  on  foot,  from  their  official  labors 
to  their  often  sleepless  pillows.  The  President 
walked  or  drove  all  about  the  city.  It  was  only 
when  he  went  out  to  live  at  the  Soldiers'  Home, 
when  he  knew  the  city  swarmed  with  desperate  men, 
that  he  could  be  persuaded  to  have  a  small  escort  of 
cavalrymen.  We  did  not  even  then  really  believe 
that  he  was  in  danger.  The  threats  against  him  were 
regarded  as  the  idle  vaporings  of  disordered  brains. 

We  all  knew  that  the  war  was  approaching  its 
end.  The  hope  was  dawning  of  a  brighter  future  for 
the  country.  *  The  members  of  the  Cabinet  were  men 
of  cold  rather  than  sympathetic  natures.  They  were 
appreciated  and  esteemed,  but  they  were  not  loved. 
It  was  otherwise  with  the  President.  None  who 
were  near  enough  to  be  witnesses  of  his  incessant 
labors,  who  knew  how  heavily  his  responsibilities 
bore  upon  him,  could  look  upon  the  sad  face  of  that 
earnest  man  without  a  wish  for  his  happiness.  Just 
then  a  great  personal  tenderness  for  him  began  to  fill 
the  hearts  of  the  people.  The  colored  race  had  no 
doubt  of  his  supernatural  character.  To  each  of 
them  he  was  a  personal  redeemer.  He  had  given 
them  freedom;  he  did  not  despise,  he  loved  them. 
The  personal  affection  of  four  or  five  million  individ 
uals,  albeit  of  an  inferior  race,  is  a  great  possession. 
Its  influence  was  extending  over  the  white  race. 
The  pressure  of  the  imperious  duties  of  every  hour 
was  relaxing ;  we  were  having  more  time  for  reflec 
tion.  We  were  beginning  to  know  how  great  and 
how  good  a  man  our  President  was,  and  to  reproach 
ourselves  because  we  had  not  long  before  made  the 
discovery. 


THE  DEATH  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN.         239 

If  he  would  gain  even  a  moderate  comprehension 
of  the  affection  of  the  people  for  Abraham  Lincoln 
and  of  the  shock  produced  by  the  announcement  of 
his  death,  the  student  of  history  must  study  his 
public  addresses,  from  his  departure  from  Spring 
field,  and  he  should  commit  to  memory  his  memorable 
words  spoken  upon  the  field  of  Gettysburg.  He 
should  pause  over  the  weighty  counsels  of  the  second 
inaugural  address.  Its  closing  sentence  will  show  in 
what  a  spirit  the  President  addressed  himself  to  his  re 
maining  duties.  The  student  will  not  pass  by  the  im 
promptu  speech  on  the  17th  of  March  on  the  presen 
tation  of  a  captured  rebel  flag,  in  which  there  was 
no  note  of  triumph,  but  the  thoughtful  deduction 
that  our  "erring  brethren,"  as  he  called  them,  had 
drawn  upon  the  last  of  their  resources  when  they 
asked  the  negro  to  fight  for  them,  and  we  could  now 
see  that  the  end  was  at  hand.  Follow  him  on  the 
25th  of  March  to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  and  his 
interview  with  Grant  and  Sherman  at  City  Point; 
read  his  dispatches  to  Stanton  on  the  last  day  of 
March  and  the  first  two  days  of  April.  They  have 
no  sound  of  conquest ;  they  close  with  the  message : 
"  All  seems  well  with  us ;  everything  is  quiet  just 
now."  In  the  early  dawn  of  the  next  morning  he 
announces  that  "  General  Grant  reports  Petersburg 
evacuated,  and  he  is  confident  that  Richmond  also  is." 

Follow  him  in  his  incredible  entrance  into  the 
rebel  capital  on  the  day  following  its  capture. 
Within  sight  of  its  spires,  he  asks  the  admiral  of 
the  war-ship  if  he  will  permit  his  sailors  to  gather  the 
wild  flowers  which  his  young  son  has  discovered  on 
the  river  bank,  "  for  the  boy  loves  flowers."  See  him 
with  his  son  leave  the  war- vessel  with  the  admiral 


240  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

and  row  in  the  open  boat  a  mile  up  to  the  landing. 
See  his  leisurely  walk  up  the  street  to  the  house  just 
left  by  the  President  of  the  Confederacy,  now  the 
headquarters  of  the  Union  commander.  Multitudes 
of  the  emancipated  crowd  around  and  seek  to  touch 
the  garments  of  their  benefactor,  as  with  streaming- 
eyes  they  shout  their  thanksgivings.  Truly,  as  he 
said,  "it  is  a  great  thing  to  be  responsible  for  the 
freedom  of  a  race."  Note  the  historic  picture  as  he 
removes  his  hat  and  bows  in  silence  to  the  old  negro 
who  exclaimed :  "  May  de  good  Lord  bless  you, 
President  Linkum."  Truthfully  did  one  write  at 
the  time :  "  That  bow  upset  the  forms,  customs,  and 
ceremonies  of  centuries.  It  was  a  death-shock  to 
chivalry  and  a  mortal  wound  to  caste." 

Let  the  student  follow  him  when,  with  eyes  of  the 
loyal  people  upon  him,  he  returns  to  the  capital.  He 
had  endeared  himself  to  the  soldiers,  to  the  whole 
people,  by  innumerable  acts  of  kindness  and  love. 
Once  only  was  his  voice  again  heard  in  public.  It 
was  a  speech  of  thanksgiving,  of  care  for  the  cap 
tured,  of  justice  to  all.  There  was  in  it  no  exultation 
over  the  fallen.  Then  with  what  joy  he  dictated  the 
order  to  stop  drafting  and  recruiting,  to  curtail  all 
war  expenses,  to  remove  all  restrictions  upon  trade 
and  commerce  consistent  with  the  public  safety. 
Even  then  the  student  will  have  but  a  faint  idea  how 
the  people  loved  their  President  in  the  hour  when  he 
fell. 

I  had  left  Washington  on  the  afternoon  of  April 
14th,  not  strong  in  body  but  rejoicing  in  spirit,  for 
although  neither  rebel  army  had  surrendered,  we  all 
knew  that  the  end  of  the  war  was  near.  Washing 
ton  was  shadowing  with  the  Stars  and  Stripes.  I 


THE  DEATH  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN.      t  241 

went  to  the  Executive  Mansion  to  take  leave  of  the 
President.  So  many  were  waiting,  the  President 
seemed  so  much  occupied  with  pressing  business, 
that  I  came  away  without  sending  in  my  card. 
Salutes  were  being  fired.  A  regiment,  the  term  of 
service  of  which  had  expired,  crowded  the  station. 
They  were  going  home !  They  were  like  boys  aban 
doned  to  the  pleasures  of  the  hour.  I  mingled  with 
them,  I  heard  their  stories  of  the  camp  and  the  bat 
tle,  shaded  with  tender  memories  of  the  fallen. 
There  were  crowds  at  the  station  and  the  sounds  of 
saluting  cannon.  It  was  a  happy  contrast  to  the 
scenes  at  the  same  station  four  years  before  when  I 
was  on  my  way  to  Washington. 

The  Hoffman  House,  on  Madison  Square,  had 
just  been  opened  by  the  brothers  Daniel  D.  and 
John  P.  Howard.  There  I  met  my  family.  Weary 
in  body  I  retired  to  my  apartments.  I  could  not 
sleep.  The  excitement  was  too  intense,  too  universal. 

At  an  early  hour,  long  before  daylight  the  next 
morning  as  I  lay  awake  in  bed,  I  heard  voices  in  the 
hall.  "  Revolution  in  Washington — the  President 
murdered.  They  .are  killing  everybody !"  I  bounded 
to  my  feet,  hastily  dressed,  and,  clearing  three  or 
four  steps  at  a  time,  reached  the  office,  which  was 
already  filled  with  an  anxious  and  excited  crowd. 
There  was  a  bulletin  board  on  which  was  written : 
"  Murder  of  the  President !  Secretaries  Seward  and 
Stanton  assassinated!  Terrible  excitement  at 
Washington!  The  President  dying!"  too  soon  fol 
lowed  by  the  words,  "  The  President  is  dead !" 

The  mind  acts  quickly  under  great  pressure ;  mine 
leaped  to  the  conclusion  that  we  might  have  a  day  of 
bloody  revolution.  Counselling  my  family  on  no  ac- 
16 


242  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

count  to  leave  their  rooms  until  I  returned,  I  called  a 
carriage  and  told  the  driver  to  take  the  back  streets  and 
drive  to  Pine  Street  as  rapidly  as  possible.  It  was  not 
yet  daylight,  and  yet  the  open  space  on  the  west  side  of 
Madison  Square  was  filled  with  excited  people.  We 
drove  rapidly  to  the  Assistant  Treasury  in  Pine 
Street,  which  was  not  yet  open.  Here  I  dismissed 
my  carriage  and  made  my  way  on  foot  down  Will 
iam  and  across  Wall  Street  to  the  Custom  House. 
As  I  ascended  the  stone  steps,  forcing  my  way 
through  the  crowd,  some  one  exclaimed :  "  He  can 
tell  us  about  Lincoln!"  It  was  Prosper  M.  Wet- 
more.  "Speech!  Speech!"  roared  the  crowd  as  I 
sought  to  make  my  way  into  the  building.  Then 
the  thought  flashed  over  me  that  I  might  say  some 
thing  which  would  allay  the  excitement.  I  turned 
and,  standing  on  a  narrow  ledge  of  stone  that  formed 
the  ledge  or  sill  of  a  window,  faced  such  a  crowd  as 
I  have  never  since  seen  in  Wall  Street.  Up  to 
Broadway,  down  toward  the  ferry,  filling  William 
Street  in  front  and  Broad  Street  as  far  on  my  left 
as  I  could  see,  was  a  crowd  of  excited  men,  shouting, 
groaning,  and  demanding  "Speech!  Speech!  Tell 
us  about  Lincoln!  Lincoln!"  Standing  upon  that 
very  narrow  space,  where  I  was  held  in  place  by  Mr. 
Wetmore  and  others,  I  spoke  a  few  earnest  words. 

There  was  no  introduction.  I  was  unknown  to 
most  of  the  audience.  "Who  are  you?"  they 
shouted.  "  You  may  read  his  name  on  your  green 
backs,  "  exclaimed  Wetmore,  and  in  a  moment  busy 
Wall  Street,  with  its  twenty  thousand  spectators, 
was  so  silent  that  I  sincerely  believe  my  voice  could 
have  been  heard  at  Broadway. 

I  would   not  record  them   if   I  could   recall   my 


THE  DEATH  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN.         243 

words.  The  thought  which  I  endeavored  to  enforce 
was  that  the  Confederates  had  no  hand  in  the  murder 
of  their  best  friend — of  the  friend  of  a  great  people 
about  to  be  reunited  in  a  great  Republic.  "  You  will 
soon  know  that  he  fell  by  the  hand  of  a  madman," 
I  exclaimed,  just  as  some  one  at  a  window  below 
me  read  out  a  dispatch  that  Wilkes  Booth  was  the 
assassin. 

Then  a  change  swept  over  that  multitude  of  men. 
They  had  been  furiously,  dangerously  angry.  They 
had  charged  their  loss  upon  an  enemy  already  crushed 
in  the  field.  They  were  ready  to  fall  upon  the  dis 
loyal  and  tear  them  limb  from  limb.  The  knowledge 
that  the  public  calamity  was  the  act  of  a  madman 
relieved  them.  A  wave  of  grief  swept  over  the  crowd 
beneath  which  the  very  stones  seemed  to  tremble 
with  emotion.  As  rapidly  as  it  had  collected,  the 
crowd  melted  away,  and  silence  fell  upon  the  theatre 
of  speculation. 

The  following  letter,  written  two  days  after  the 
death  of  the  President,  throws  a  vivid  flash-light 
upon  the  situation  at  the  capital.  It  was  written  by 
Francis  P.  Blair,  a  veteran  editor,  observer,  corre 
spondent,  and  friend  of  the  Union,  and  addressed  to 
a  lady  whose  graceful  pen  and  sterling  qualities  have 
secured  for  her  the  warm  friendship  of  so  many  of 
our  public  men.  The  kindness  of  Mrs.  Cornelia  W. 
Martin,  of  Auburn,  N.  Y.,  enables  me  to  give  this 
letter  to  the  public : 

WASHINGTON,  Monday,  April  17th,  1865. 

My  dear  Friend: — Since  your  letter  was  received,  our  city 

has  been  transformed  from  the  gayest  and  brightest  to  the 

gloomiest  and  saddest.     All  the  houses  were  illuminated  from 

within,  and  on  all  the  walls  and  peaks  without  floated  our  flag 


244  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

rich  in  its  color  and  stars,  and  for  more  than  a  week  the  salutes  of 
cannon  shook  the  air  with  glad  tidings — when  in  an  instant  the 
pageant  sank  down  and  the  lights  were  extinguished  when 
the  pistol-shot  put  an  end  to  the  life  that  had  brought  the 
peace  and  deliverance  we  were  celebrating.  A  grand  torch 
light  procession  was  actually  marching,  with  banners  flying, 
through  the  avenue  at  the  very  moment  when  the  assassin 
struck  his  victim.  The  whole  city  stalked  about  in  its  gloom 
while  the  President  was  dying.  His  spirit  fled  as  the  morn 
ing  dawned.  My  family  would  not  wake  me  to  witness  this 
sad  change  of  scene,  although  it  was  known  to  them  ;  the 
military  having  surrounded  my  house  at  daylight,  to  protect 
its  inmates  from  what  was  supposed  to  be  the  beginning  of  a 
sort  of  political  St.  Bartholomew.  One  of  the  assassins,  who 
was  to  have  killed  the  Vice-President,  occupied  the  room  ad 
joining  his  at  the  Kirkwood  House,  where  he  lodged  after  his 
return  from  Richmond.  A  card  sent  to  him  by  Booth  was 
carried  by  mistake  to  the  Vice-President,  who  did  not  under 
stand  the  admonition  given  by  the  principal  to  his  accomplice 
until  the  tragic  scene  in  the  theatre  explained  it. 

The  message  did  not  give  the  clew  to  the  person  to  whom 
it  was  addressed,  whose  heart,  it  seems,  failed  him,  and  he 
left  his  room  locked  the  night  of  the  catastrophe  ;  but  his 
bowie-knife  "was  found  concealed  in  his  bed  the  next  morning. 
It  is  wonderful,  but  the  man  who  stabbed  Mr.  Seward,  his  son 
and  servant,  though  well  known,  has  not  been  arrested. 

The  horse  on  which  Booth  fled  has  been  found,  but  no  clew 
to  his  rider.  It  is  thought  by  many  that  he  remains  concealed 
in  the  city.  Letters  found  in  his  trunk  show  that  the  scheme 
was  long  meditated  and  all  the  means  for  its  execution  and 
the  escape  of  the  actor  well  prepared.  General  Grant  was 
expected  to  be  with  the  President,  and  the  knife  that  the 
murderer  brandished  was  for  him.  I  have  this  moment  re 
turned  from  an  interview  with  General  Grant.  He  showed 
me  a  dispatch  just  received  from  General  Sherman,  contain 
ing  one  from  General  Johnson,  proposing  a  suspension  of  hos 
tilities  to  arrange  matters  through  General  Grant,  which, 
Sherman  replies  to  Johnson,  may  be  effected  upon  like  terms 
as  those  arranged  with  Lee.  So  you  see  the  "wild  war"  is 
over  and  gentle  peace  is  returning.  Grant,  too,  has  just  re- 


THE  DEATH  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN.         245 

ceived  a  special  from  Wilson,  commanding  the  army  in 
which  Andrew  moves,  confirming  the  rumor  of  his  taking 
Selma,  a  great  body  of  prisoners  and  of  munitions,  provisions, 
and  the  machinery  which  was  established  at  that  depot. 
Grant  also  told  me  that  Hancock  was  on  this  very  day  com 
pounding  matters  with  the  guerilla  chief,  Mosby.  This  is  the 
fellow  who  has  led  all  the  raids  into  Maryland  and  to  whom 
all  the  danger  to  me  and  mine  at  Silver  Spring  was  attributa 
ble.  His  band  of  troopers  could  in  two  hours  reach  my  house 
from  their  lurking-places  near  the  fords  of  the  Potomac. 
They  could  have  taken  me  from  my  bed  on  any  dark  night  and 
carried  me  off  as  a  victim  for  any  of  their  gang,  and  during 
the  last  four  years  I  have  had  some  secret  intimations  that 
they  could  avenge  themselves  if  their  will  inclined  them  or 
any  exigency  prompted  them  to  use  such  means.  I  am,  dear 
madam,  yours  very  cordially, 

F.  P.  BLAIR. 
P.  S.—  Mobile  is  taken. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 
SAVANNAH  IN  WINTER  AND  IN  WAR. 

SHERMAN  had  driven  his  army  like  a  wedge  of  steel 
through  the  body  of  the  Confederated  States,  from 
Nashville  to  Atlanta,  from  Atlanta  to  the  sea. 
Hazen  had  stormed  Fort  McAllister.  Hardee  had 
evacuated  and  General  Frank  P.  Blair  had  led  the 
seventeenth  army  corps  into  the  city  of  Savannah, 
and  Sherman  had  made  of  that  city,  with  its  many 
thousand  bales  of  cotton,  a  Christmas  gift  to  the 
President  of  the  Republic. 

With  this  present  came  northward  a  wail  of  famine 
and  of  suffering.  When  Hardee  with  the  Confed 
erate  army  marched  out  of  the  city  into  the  morasses 
of  South  Carolina,  there  followed  him  every  wheeled 
vehicle  drawn  by  every  horse  and  mule,  transporting 
the  last  barrel  of  pork  and  beef  and  flour  and  the 
last  bushel  of  rice.  He  had  left  nothing  for  the  sub 
sistence  of  the  people,  and  they  were  starving.  So 
ran  the  report  which  was  almost  universally  believed. 

Straightway  the  people  of  New  York  City,  without 
distinction  of  party,  sect,  or  condition,  forgot  the  fir 
ing  upon  Fort  Sumter,  the  horrors  of  Andersonville, 
the  almost  four  years  of  bloody  war,  and  remembered 
only  that  the  people  of  Savannah  were  Americans 
and  that  they  were  hungry.  In  a  single  morning  a 
large  committee  was  named  by  the  Chamber  of  Com 
merce  to  receive  contributions  of  provisions;  the 

246 


SAVANNAH  IN  WINTER  AND  IN  WAR.         247 

committee  was  organized,  named  a  depot  where  sup 
plies  might  be  sent,  and  before  nightfall  there  were 
contributed  provisions  enough  to  load  a  steamer,  the 
owners  of  which  made  her  charter  their  own  contri 
bution.  She  was  loaded  in  the  night  and  the  next 
morning  was  ready  to  be  cleared  for  Savannah. 

Her  clearance  involved  a  difficulty.  The  War  De 
partment  objected.  "  To  exhaust  the  supplies  of  the 
enemy,"  said  Secretary  Stanton,  "is  one  of  the.  ob 
jects  we  are  trying  to  accomplish ;  it  is  one  of  the 
most  effectual  means  of  making  war.  To  feed  him, 
or  to  feed  the  families  of  soldiers  who  are  in  the 
field  fighting  our  own  armies,  would  prolong  the 
war  and  make  us  the  butt  of  other  nations.  Why 
do  you  ask  me  to  do  what  you  would  not  do  yourself 
in  my  place?"  he  demanded  when  at  the  request  of 
friends  in  New  York  I  asked  him  to  permit  the 
steamer  to  be  cleared.  "I  will  not  do  it.  If  the 
people  of  New  York  City  want  to  feed  anybody,  let 
them  send  their  gifts  to  the  starving  prisoners  from 
the  Andersonville  stockade.  They  shall  not  with  my 
consent  send  supplies  to  the  rebels  in  the  very  State 
in  which  the  enormities  of  that  hell  are  perpetrated !" 

I  could  not  answer  the  Secretary  and  I  wanted  to 
accommodate  my  friends  in  New  York.  I  was  in 
a  strait  betwixt  two,  and  I  had  learned  what  to  do 
in  such  a  situation.  I  went  to  the  President  and  laid 
the  case  with  Secretary  Stanton's  objections  fairly 
before  him.  "Stanton  is  right,"  he  said,  "but  the 
Georgians  must  not  be  left  to  starve,  if  some  of  them 
do  starve  our  prisoners.  However,  I  will  not  offend 
Stanton  unless  I  can  make  something  by  the  transac 
tion.  I  will  compromise.  If  you  will  go  on  the 
steamer  and  make  a  report  upon  the  actual  condition 


248  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

of  the  people,  I  will  do  better  than  Pharaoh  did  by 
the  Israelites — I  will  let  the  steamer  go." 

I  accepted  the  condition  and  the  mission,  went  to 
New  York  the  same  evening,  and  as  soon  as  the  Cus 
tom  House  was  open  the  next  morning  submitted  the 
President's  order,  obtained  the  clearance,  and  by 
twelve  o'clock  the  vessel  was  ready  to  sail. 

The  manifest  of  the  steamer's  cargo  was  not  sug 
gestive  of  famine  nor  even  of  destitution.  It  was 
midwinter,  when  fresh  provisions  could  be  transported 
without  risk.  The  hold  was  filled  to  the  deck-beams 
with  barrels  of  flour,  barrels  and  other  packages  of 
salted  and  canned  beef,  fish,  and  vegetables.  Smoked 
hams  and  bacon  were  thrown  into  every  crevice. 
Between  the  decks  in  close  proximity  were  suspended 
on  hooks  the  carcasses  of  fat  beeves,  calves,  pigs,  and 
sheep.  All  the  staterooms  unoccupied  by  the  com 
mittee  and  the  commissioner  were  crowded  with 
layers  of  dressed  turkeys,  geese,  ducks,  and  chickens. 
From  manifestations  after  our  arrival  I  was  led  to 
believe  that  there  were  fluids  on  board  of  higher 
proof  than  mineral  waters. 

The  captain  or  skipper  of  the  steamer  was  an  orig 
inal.  He  was  a  native  of  the  eastern  shore  of  New 
Jersey  and  was  about  fifty  years  of  age.  He  stood  six 
feet  high,  and  carried  a  back  and  shoulders  broad 
enough  and  a  backbone  stiff  enough  for  two  or 
dinary  men.  His  face  was  intensely  red — his  hair 
bleached  from  dark  brown  to  a  straw  color  by  long  ex 
posure.  His  whole  life  had  been  passed  at  sea.  He 
had  risen  from  boy-of-all-work  on  a  coal-carrying 
schooner,  through  all  the  grades)  to  the  command  of 
a  three-master,  from  which  he  had  been  transferred 
to  a  small  steamer  as  mate,  and  had  attained  to  the 


SAVANNAH  IN  WINTER  AND  IN  WAR.         249 

captaincy  of  the  largest  in  a  considerable  fleet  of 
coasting  steamers. 

He  began  by  driving  his  passengers  ashore  to  their 
homes  after  what  he  called  decent  winter  clothing. 
"You  are  going  around  Hatteras  in  January,"  he 
said,  "an'  that  ain't  no  summer  excursion.  I  don't 
want  to  report  you  frozen  to  death  on  my  hands. 
You  had  better  put  on  all  the  flannels  you've  got  in 
your  chists,  two  or  three  pair  of  thick  trowses,  and 
as  many  coats.  Clap  an  oilskin  suit  a-top  of  them, 
with  a  buffalo  or  a  fur  coat  for  real  lively  stirring 
weather,  and  you  may  be  happy  off  Hatteras.  Bet 
ter  to  lose  an  hour  now  than  to  send  you,  frozen  mum 
mies,  back  to  the  bosoms  of  your  families." 

We  were  glad  enough  of  the  captain's  foresight 
before  we  passed  Sandy  Hook.  It  was  very  cold  in 
New  York  City  and  it  grew  colder  every  hour  until 
we  entered  the  mouth  of  the  river  at  Fort  Pickens. 
The  red-heat  of  the  coal -stove  in  the  cabin  was  all 
absorbed  by  the  circle  of  shivering  landsmen  gathered 
around  it,  while  the  captain  danced  and  roared  his 
orders  above  the  howling  of  the  wind  in  the  very 
exuberance  of  his  animal  spirits. 

The  next  day  was  one  of  uneventful  cold.  We 
were  principally  employed  in  keeping  warm.  At 
nightfall,  when  we  retired  to  the  seclusion  of  the 
cabin,  the  captain  informed  us  that  we  were  off  the 
capes  of  Virginia.  We  passed  the  evening  in  games 
of  whist  and  chess.  About  ten  o'clock  the  captain 
rushed  into  the  cabin  exclaiming,  "There's  merry 
h — 1  to  pay  in-shore.  I  think  it  is  another  attack 
on  Fort  Fisher.  I  have  half  a  mind  to  run  in  and 
see.  It  will  not  cost  us  more  than  four  or  five  hours' 
delay." 


250  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

We  went  on  deck  in  a  body,  the  captain  not  stop 
ping  until  he  reached  the  mast-head.  He  declared 
that  he  could  see  the  flashes  of  the  guns  on  the  south 
ern  horizon ;  we  could  only  hear  a  dull,  heavy  roar, 
now  swelling  and  again  falling,  but  never  quite  dying 
away.  The  flashes  of  the  guns  soon  became  visible 
from  the  decks,  and  in  a  couple  of  hours  the  whole 
magnificent  spectacle  was  imprinted  in  flashes  and 
curves  of  fire  upon  the  southern  sky.  The  curves  of 
fire  must  have  been  made  by  the  burning  fuses  of 
the  shells,  one  of  which  occasionally  burst  in  its 
transit,  lighting  up  the  whole  scene.  The  fire  from 
the  ships  was  constant ;  we  were  not  near  enough  to 
see  whether  it  was  answered  from  the  fort.  We 
pursued  our  voyage  until  the  light  fell  below  the 
horizon,  for  we  had  no  knowledge  how  long  the 
bombardment  might  continue.  The  dull  roar  of 
the  guns  was  heard  long  after  the  lines  of  fire  had  dis 
appeared. 

The  next  morning  we  were  off  Cape  Hatteras  and 
the  low  sandy  shore  was  no  longer  visible.  Mighty 
seas  overtaking  us  threatened  to  swamp  our  steamer, 
but  a  little  in  advance  of  the  top  of  the  wave  her 
stern  rose  gently,  the  sea  rolled  under  her,  and 
rushed  to  break  into  masses  of  white  foam  over  the 
shallow  bottom  that  seemed  directly  in  our  course. 
Our  captain  said  there  was  a  channel  very  narrow 
and  very  crooked,  and  he  was  bound  to  follow  it. 
Glass  in  hand  he  went  up  to  the  mast-head.  From 
his  perch  he  shouted  his  orders  to  the  two  men  at  the 
wheel,  turning  the  bow  of  the  vessel  now  this  way, 
now  that,  always  keeping  it  in  the  narrow  space 
marked  by  the  green  unbroken  wave.  There  he  stood 
for  three  long  hours,  until  our  good  ship  was  plough- 


SAVANNAH  IN  WINTER  AND  IN  WAR.         251 

ing  the  unbroken  sea ;  the  white  foam  lay  behind  us, 
and  we  knew  the  danger  was  passed. 

"You  must  know  this  coast  well,  captain,  to  be 
able  to  pilot  your  ship  through  that  crooked  channel," 
I  said,  as  he  came  down  to  his  post  on  the  bridge. 

"I  reckon  I  ort  to,"  he  replied.  "I've  known 
her  for  more'n  forty  year.  I  know  her  bottom  bet- 
ter'n  I  do  her  shore.  Wake  me  in  any  watch  and 
show  me  a  bit  of  her  bottom  and  I'll  tell  you  whar 
we  are !" 

"  Do  you  coasters  take  observations  and  ascertain 
your  position  by  the  science  of  navigation?"  I  asked. 

"  Sartin !"  he  replied.  "  I  shall  take  the  sun  at 
twelve  o'clock  an'  show  you  how  it  is  done!" 

He  took  his  observation  and  proceeded  to  explain 
to  us  the  whole  science  of  navigation.  His  short 
legs  as  solid  as  two  iron  bars  were  planted  well  apart, 
sustaining  his  square  figure  with  its  big  head  and 
well-tanned  face.  Between  the  short,  stubby  thumb 
and  finger  of  his  big  right  hand  he  held  a  shorter 
and  more  stubby  lead-pencil;  in  the  other  hand  a 
well-worn  copy  of  Blunt's  "Coast  Pilot."  With 
some  difficulty  he  found  the  margin  of  a  page  not 
already  covered  by  the  figures  of  a  former  example. 
"  You  git  the  sun,"  he  said,  "  and  then  you  set  it  down 
and  go  into  the  book  and  git  the  logarithm  for  to-day. 
And  then  you  multiply  and  divide  and  subtract,  and 
then  you  add  fourteen  more,  and  there  you  are.  It's 
as  simple  as  falling  overboard." 

"  But  why  do  you  multiply  and  subtract  and  di 
vide  in  this  way?" 

"  Because  them's  the  right  figgers.  It's  all  down 
here  in  the  "  Coast  Pilot,"  all  a-taunto !" 

In  short,  he  had  not  the  slightest  conception  of  the 


252  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

reason  of  any  part  of  the  process.  But  I  presume  he 
would  have  navigated  a  ship  to  any  part  of  the  world 
in  perfect  safety,  without  any  doubt  whatever  of  his 
own  power  as  a  navigator. 

Before  the  voyage  was  over  our  confidence  in  the 
capacity  of  our  captain  was  settled.  As  we  approached 
the  mouth  of  the  Savannah  River  he  kept  the  lead 
going  until  we  reached  a  point  some  miles  off  shore 
where  there  was  not  more  than  a  half-fathom  in  ex 
cess  of  the  steamer's  draught  of  water.  Here  he 
anchored  and  set  his  signals  for  a  pilot.  No  pilot 
came.  He  got  out  his  chart  of  the  river  and  harbor  and 
spread  it  on  the  post  of  the  windlass,  and  began  to 
survey  the  shore  and  soliloquize.  "  It's  risin'  three 
year  sence  I  was  here  last.  The  bottom  hasn't 
changed,  I  reckon.  But  the  derned  rebs  have  put 
out  every  light,  cut  loose  every  buoy,  and  cut  down 
every  tree  on  the  shore.  What  for  did  they  bite  off 
their  own  noses,  I  wonder?  There  used  to  be  a  live- 
oak  on  that  point.  You  steered  for  the  flag  on 
Fort  Pickens  until  that  tree  bore ;  then  you  opened 
another  tree  and  steered  straight  for  it  until  you  laid 
your  ship  well  into  the  river,  opposite  the  fort.  Now 
there  ain't  no  tree  nor  no  flag  on  Fort  Pickens.  Yes, 
there  is,  and  they  have  just  sent  it  up  for  some  rea 
son.  It's  our  flag,  too."  Thus  he  went  on  until  it 
became  evident  that  he  must  lie  on  the  bar  all  night 
or  make  his  own  way  into  the  river. 

He  gave  the  order  to  raise  the  anchors  and  place 
one  on  either  bow  ready  to  be  let  go  on  the  instant. 
A  man  was  also  placed  on  either  side  forward  with 
orders  to  keep  the  lead  going.  He  put  the  vessel 
under  a  low  steam  and  she  began  to  move  slowly 
forward.  Answering  her  helm  quickly,  she  moved 


SAVANNAH  IN  WINTER  AND  IN  WAR.        253 

right,  left,  forward,  stopped  and  backed  at  his  com 
mand.  Often  there  was  not  more  than  a  foot  of 
water  under  her  keel.  But  before  sunset  he  had 
worked  his  steamer  safely  into  the  river  almost  up 
to  Fort  Pickens,  when  he  roared  loud  enough  to  be 
heard  on  shore : 

"  Let  go  them  anchors !" 

They  dropped  into  the  muddy  bottom  and  brought 
up  the  steamer  under  her  slow  motion  in  one-third 
of  her  length. 

"  Look  there  and  see  what  a  d — d  rebel  can  do, " 
he  said,  pointing  over  the  steamer's  bow.  We  looked 
and  saw  nothing  but  a  small  spar  one  end  of  which 
appeared  to  be  floating  abreast  of  our  vessel.  He 
sent  a  boat  with  a  line  to  take  a  turn  around  it  and 
haul  it  on  deck.  Then  we  saw  that  its  larger  end 
was  anchored  at  the  bottom,  while  the  smaller  was 
shod  with  a  steel  point.  It  was  then  left,  the  smaller 
end  to  float  with  the  tide  ready  to  pierce  the  hull  of 
any  vessel  which  struck  it.  We  did  not  wonder  at 
the  captain's  indignation.  If  he  had  known  how  they 
had  planted  the  river,  the  city  would  have  had  a 
seven  years'  famine  before  he  would  have  risked  his 
steamer  to  bring  its  people  supplies. 

Just  at  nightfall  a  very  respectable  colored  man 
came  on  board,  and  a  few  minutes  later  an  officer  and 
boat's  crew  from  the  fort.  The  officer  informed  us  that 
it  would  be  impossible  to  ascend  the  river.  The  tor 
pedoes  were  supposed  to  have  been  removed,  but  there 
was  a  dam  of  cribs  of  timber  filled  with  stone  a 
couple  of  miles  below  the  city,  which  our  engineers 
were  removing  and  would  have  cleared  out  within  a 
few  days.  Until  that  obstruction  was  removed  no 
steamer  could  go  up  the  river  to  the  cit}T. 


254  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

The  colored  man,  who  was  a  fisherman,  said  he  knew 
of  a  channel  with  a  bottom  of  soft  mud  which  en 
tered  the  river  above  the  obstruction,  and  through 
which  he  thought  he  could  take  the  steamer  in  the 
daytime.  We  therefore  lay  at  anchor  all  night  and 
in  the  morning  our  colored  pilot  took  command.  He 
told  the  captain  that  there  was  not  a  rock,  a  snag, 
nor  a  bit  of  hard  ground  in  the  channel  through 
which  he  would  take  us,  so  that  the  worst  that  could 
happen  would  be  to  stick  the  nose  of  the  steamer  into 
the  mud  until  she  was  released  by  high  water  or  a 
tug.  He  was  as  good  as  his  word.  He  carried  us 
through  beds  of  reeds  into  places  where  the  mud  was 
level  with  the  surface,  but  our  headway  was  never 
entirely  stopped,  and  we  passed  the  dam,  turned  into 
the  river,  and  under  a  good  head  of  steam  moved 
up  alongside  a  wharf  in  the  business  part  of  the  city. 
Our  pilot  wanted  one  of  "dem  turkeys,"  but  his  fees 
would  not  come  to  so  much,  and  he  thought  he  ought 
to  have  a  dollar  and  a  half  in  good  money.  We 
thought  so  too.  He  went  ashore  a  very  happy  col 
ored  man,  for  he  carried  a  market-basket  heavy  with 
a  good  cut  of  beef  and  a  Rhode  Island  turkey,  and 
one  of  Uncle  Sam's  golden  eagles  in  his  pocket.  On 
the  day  of  our  arrival  an  opening  was  made  through 
the  dam  broad  enough  for  vessels  to  pass,  and  a  fleet 
of  steamers  loaded  with  military  supplies  which  had 
been  waiting  below  came  up  to  the  city.  One  of 
the  steamers,  which  came  in  that  morning  proudly 
bearing  the  British  flag,  carried  a  captain  with  a  rue 
ful  countenance.  He  had  his  own  pilot  on  board.  He 
had  run  the  blockade,  his  pilot  had  evaded  all  the 
torpedoes  and  steel-pointed  spars,  and  finding  an 
opening  in  the  dam  he  had  steamed  up  to  the  city 


SAVANNAH  IN  WINTER  AND  IN  WAR.         255 

and  dropped  his  anchor  between  two  vessels  the  com 
manders  of  which  at  sunrise  hoisted  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  not  only  on  their  ships,  but  on  his  own. 

The  first  call  I  made  was  upon  General  Sherman. 
He  did  not  think  there  was  much  occasion  for  our 
expedition,  but  since  our  steamer  had  come  he  pro 
posed  to  see  to  it  that  our  provisions  went  to  those 
who  were  truly  in  want  and  not  to  those  who  were 
able  to  pay  for  their  own  supplies,  a  proposal  which 
met  with  my  hearty  co-operation. 
*  The  chief  of  the  commissary  department  of  Sher 
man's  army  was  an  old  acquaintance  and  a  fellow- 
Vermonter.  Colonel,  afterward  brevet  Major-Gen- 
eral,  Amos  Beckwith  had  a  deceptive  face.  He  looked 
much  like  a  minister  who  had  failed  of  success  as  a 
preacher  and  given  himself  up  to  idleness  and  regret. 
One  would  have  said  that  he  was  a  quiet,  modest 
man  who  had  no  harm  in  him,  who  would  have  made 
a  fair  chaplain  of  a  regiment  in  which  there  were  no 
hard  cases  and  of  which  no  severe  service  was  ex 
pected.  In  fact,  he  was  a  man  full  of  resources,  of 
tireless  energy  and  tremendous  force.  He  had  fed 
Sherman's  army  under  conditions  which  would  have 
appalled  ordinary  men — which  he  himself  could  not 
have  overcome  if  he  had  not  been  able  to  impart  his 
own  energy  to  many  others.  He  hated  cant  and  hum 
bug.  Lazy  men  were  afraid  of  him.  "  Beckwith  never 
requires  any  orders,"  said  General  Sherman.  "Let 
him  know  where  the  army  or  any  part  of  it  will  be  at 
any  time,  and  the  supplies  will  be  there.  He  is  the 
only  man  I  ever  knew  who  always  does  the  right  thing 
at  the  right  time.  He  thinks  quick  and  acts  quicker !" 

Beckwith  received  me  with  cordiality,  and,  busy 
as  I  knew  he  was,  pressed  me  to  be  seated  and  tell 


256  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

him  all  the  news.  I  was  about  taking  myself  away, 
when  a  committee  of  the  citizens  of  Savannah  was 
announced  and  invited  to  enter. 

"Your  business,  gentlemen?"  was  the  colonel's 
crisp  military  demand. 

The  chairman,  a  dignified  cotton  factor,  portly 
enough  for  a  Dutch  burgomaster,  with  many  words 
expressed  his  high  estimate  of  General  Sherman  and 
his  staff,  and  his  thanks  for  their  preservation  of  life 
and  property.  He  opened  a  river  of  speech  that 
might  have  flowed  on  forever. 

"  Yes !  Omit  all  that.  Come  to  the  point.  You 
want  something — what  is  it?"  demanded  the  colonel. 

The  speaker  began  a  long  way  from  his  conclusion. 
General  Hardee  was  short  of  transportation ;  he  had 
taken  with  him  all  the  horses  and  mules  when  he 
evacuated  the  city;  the  negroes  would  no  longer 
work  unless  they  were  paid  in  good  Northern  money 
— they  would  not  touch  Confederate  notes.  The 
United  States  had  taken  possession  of  the  movable 
steam-engines  used  in  discharging  vessels.  A  steamer 
had  just  arrived  from  the  North  with  provisions.  It 
was  necessary  to  discharge  her  cargo  and  cart  it  to 
the  public  market.  Would  Colonel  Beckwith  be  so 
kind  as  to  send  a  force  of  men  and  wagons  to  unload 
and  transport  this  cargo? 

There  were  premonitions  of  a  convulsion  before 
this  speech  was  half  delivered — they  materialized 
with  a  crash  as  it  ended. 

"  No !  A  hundred  times  no !  You,  traitors,  taken 
red-handed,  fighting  against  your  flag,  permitted  to 
go  at  large  when  you  ought  to  be  hung  or  imprisoned 
— you  asking  that  brave  soldiers  be  sent  to  unload 
provisions  contributed  by  charity  to  save  you  from 


SAVANNAH  IN  WINTER  AND  IN   WAR.         257 

starvation !  What  lazy,  miserable  curs  slavery  made 
of  men !  A  few  years  more  of  it  and  you  would  have 
had  a  nigger  to  open  your  eyes  in  the  morning  and 
to  work  your  jaws  at  breakfast.  No.  I'll  see  you 
d — d  first,  a  thousand  times,  as  you  deserve.  I 
may  want  that  steamer  any  day.  If  by  twelve  to 
morrow  she  is  not  unloaded  I  will  discharge  her 
and  distribute  her  cargo  to  the  families  of  men  who 
are  willing  to  work  and  not  too  lazy  to  live.  I  have 
a  great  mind  to  do  it  now.  Now  get  out,  all  of  you ! 
This  is  a  business  office  and  no  place  for  bummers !" 

They  left  without  ceremony.  The  colonel  turned 
to  me  with  an  apologetic  air.  "D — n  them!"  he 
said.  "  I  have  respect  for  a  fighting  rebel,  but  for 
these  lazy,  cowardly  curs — bah !  They  will  complain 
of  me  to  General  Sherman.  If  you  want  amuse 
ment  go  over  to  his  headquarters." 

A  member  of  his  staff  who  was  present  took  me 
into  the  quarters  of  General  Sherman  by  a  private 
entrance.  In  a  few  minutes  the  committee  appeared. 
The  chairman  was  eloquent  over  their  wrongs;  he 
wished  to  complain  of  Colonel  Beck  with.  They  had 
asked  him  for  a  detail  of  men  to  unload  a  vessel,  and 
he  had  abused  and  threatened  them.  They  wanted 
him  reprimanded  and  taught  how  to  treat  gentlemen 
in  future. 

"Are  you  quite  certain  that  he  threatened  you? 
It  is  the  first  time  I  ever  heard  of  a  threat  from 
Beckwith,"  said  the  general. 

"  He  may  not  have  threatened  us  personally.  But 
he  did  say  in  his  brutal  language  that  if  we  did  not 
unload  that  vessel  d — d  quick  he  would  unload  her 
and  distribute  her  provisions  himself.  We  ask  you 
particularly  to  prevent  that  outrage,  general !" 
17 


258  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

"  Then  you  had  better  get  to  work  on  that  cargo 
at  once, "  said  the  general.  "  Beckwith  seldom  tells 
what  he  is  going  to  do,  but  if  he  told  you  that  he 
will  do  it  without  the  slightest  doubt." 

"  But  you  will  at  least  reprimand  him  for  insult 
ing  the  committee?"  insisted  the  chairman. 

"  There  is  some  question  about  that, "  said  the  gen 
eral.  "  Beckwith  is  the  best  commissary  I  ever  knew. 
All  through  the  campaign  this  army  of  mine  has 
looked  to  Beckwith  for  its  rations.  He  has  never 
failed  them.  He  has  never  interfered  with  my  du 
ties  nor  I  with  his,  and  we  agree  perfectly.  Then 
before  I  could  reprimand  him  I  should  have  to  know 
that  I  would  not  have  said  just  what  he  did  under 
the  circumstances.  Was  it  not  a  trifle  cool  of  you 
to  ask  that  men  from  my  army  be  sent  to  work  for 
you?" 

"I  see,"  said  the  chairman,  "the  heel  of  the  con 
queror  is  upon  us.  We  must  submit.  It  is  useless 
to  remonstrate !" 

"I  have  no  time  to  waste  with  you,  gentlemen," 
said  the  general.  "  When  you  are  able  to  appreciate 
the  gentleness  with  which  you  have  been  treated  by 
my  army,  you  may  come  to  me  for  advice,  not  for 
complaint.  Until  then  you  will  not  do  better  than  to 
follow  Beckwith's  advice  and  go  to  work." 

Two  hours  later  a  crowd  of  citizens  were  unloading 
the  steamer.  Twenty-five  of  them  on  a  rope  which 
passed  through  a  snatch-block  were  marching  for 
ward  and  back  to  the  song  and  chorus  of  a  darky, 
whipping  barrels  out  of  the  steamer's  hold.  She  was 
discharged  within  twelve  hours.  Beckwith  had  got 
good  work  out  of  the  citizens  and  their  committee. 

I  sought  every  opportunity  to  converse  with  the 


SAVANNAH  IN  WINTER  AND  IN  WAR.        259 

private  soldiers  in  the  city.  There  was  a  general  ap 
pearance  of  rugged  health  and  strength  and  of  per 
sonal  cleanliness  which  surprised  me.  I  stood  by  a 
window  in  his  headquarters  when  the  division  of 
GeDeral  Geary  began  its  northward  march.  Every 
man  carried  his  gun,  his  forty  rounds  of  ammunition, 
his  shelter  tent,  and  rations  for  five  days.  Each  one 
had  some  articles  which  contributed  to  the  common 
comfort,  axes,  bill-hooks,  spades,  gridirons,  frying- 
pans  With  long  handles.  Yet  with  all  this  burden  the 
soldier's  step  was  elastic.  Instead  of  slowly  striding 
over  a  pool  of  water  or  an  obstruction  in  the  highway 
each  line  actually  bounded  over  it,  as  I  had  seen  sheep 
bound  over  a  low  fence  in  a  hill-pasture.  Geary 
himself  was  a  general  worthy  of  such  a  force.  Over 
six  feet  high,  his  body  straight  and  strong  as  the 
trunk  of  a  forest  ash,  with  the  bravery  of  a  lion,  he 
was  every  inch  a  soldier. 

"  What  a  splendid  body  of  men  you  command, 
general!"  I  said  to  him  as  the  last  regiment  was 
passing. 

"My  friend!"  he  exclaimed,  "I  will  tell  you  a 
short  story.  I  crossed  the  Ohio  River  with  that  di 
vision  when  it  numbered  twelve  thousand  five  hun 
dred  men.  They  were  good,  strong,  brainy  men  from 
the  city  and  country — no  better  average  was  ever  en 
listed.  To-day  there  are  present  for  duty  only  a  few 
more  than  three  thousand,  and  yet  I  think  the  fight 
ing  strength  of  the  division  was  never  greater  than 
it  is  at  this  moment.  Many  good  men  have  fallen 
upon  many  battle-fields,  others  have  been  sent  home 
permanently  disabled.  Of  the  others,  every  one  with 
a  defect,  physical  or  mental,  has  been  sifted  out. 
Those  that  remain  are  in  perfect  health,  used  to  hard 


260  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

service,  brave,  disciplined  soldiers,  who  have  faith  in 
their  officers,  believe  themselves  to  be  invincible,  and 
are  as  nearly  so  as  it  is  possible  for  men  to  be.  Every 
man  knows  how  to  take  care  of  himself.  Halt  the 
division  for  twenty  minutes  and  each  man  will  be 
eating  his  hard  tack  with  a  cup  of  hot  coffee  in  his 
hand."  His  eyes  sparkled  as  he  said,  "There  is  no 
reward  for  the  soldier  equal  to  the  consciousness  that 
he  commands  such  men !" 

Very  soon  afterward  I  learned  what  Genera?  Geary 
had  in  mind  when  he  spoke  of  men  who  knew  how 
to  take  care  of  themselves.  I  had  spent  the  night  in 
the  upper  part  of  the  city.  About  eight  o'clock  in 
the  morning  as  I  was  crossing  Bull  Street,  a  broad 
boulevard,  on  my  way  to  the  steamer,  a  large  divi 
sion  of  men  had  just  entered  the  street  and  stacked 
their  arms.  They  had  been  encamped  on  a  rice-field 
from  which  the  water  was  excluded  by  tide-gates. 
Some  rebels  hazing  about  in  the  night  had  destroyed 
these  gates,  and  when  the  tide  rose  the  field  was 
flooded  and  the  division  had  literally  been  "  drowned 
out,"  some  individuals  saving  their  baggage  with 
difficulty.  Five  hours  later  I  visited  the  division  by 
invitation.  The  boulevard  had  undergone  a  magical 
change.  Unoccupied  buildings  had  furnished  the 
lumber.  Four  posts  firmly  set  in  the  earth  were 
closely  boarded  for  about  six  feet  from  the  ground. 
A  ridge-pole  was  raised,  over  it  shelter  tents  were 
stretched,  forming  a  roof.  From  the  bales  on  the 
dock  cotton  had  been  brought  for  the  mattress,  over 
which  a  blanket  was  stretched  and  pinned  to  the 
earth,  and  here  was  a  dry,  comfortable  house  and 
sleeping-room  for  six  men .  Kitchens  and  cook-rooms 
were  provided  for  each  squad,  in  which  a  hot  dinner 


SAVANNAH  IN  WINTER  AND  IN  WAR.         261 

with  the  indispensable  hot  coffee  was  in  the  process 
of  preparation.  These  men  knew  how  to  take  care 
of  themselves ! 

There  was  a  sad  procession  of  negroes  in  the  rear  of 
every  division.  The  owners  of  plantations  had  aban 
doned  the  sick,  the  young,  and  the  infirm,  in  many 
cases  leaving  them  destitute.  They  had  been  told 
horrible  stories — that  the  Yankees  put  the  able  men  in 
front  of  every  battle,  that  the  old  men,  women,  and 
children  were  thrown  into  the  rivers  or  burned  in  the 
factories  and  storehouses. 

But  these  stories  produced  no  impression  upon  the 
colored  race.  They  knew  the  Northern  soldiers  were 
their  friends.  They  would  follow  them  to  the  ends 
of  the  earth.  An  old  white-headed  man,  his  body 
crippled  by  neglect  and  hard  work,  said  to  me :  "  I 
don't  speck  to  see  the  land  of  freedom,  but  I's  gwine 
to  follow  dat  flag  on t well  I  jest  fall  an'  die  in  de 
road."  I  turn  away  from  any  farther  description. 
The  black  followers  seemed  to  me  more  numerous 
than  the  army.  One  of  them,  a  white-haired  man  of 
eighty  years,  crippled  and  almost  doubled  by  ill- 
treatment,  said  to  me  as  he  painfully  limped  after 
Geary's  division,  "I  will  follow  it  ontwell  I  drap. 
I  is  goin'  north  to  de  land  of  freedom." 

There  were  tragic  events  caused  by  these  ignorant 
colored  people.  "  Will  you  come  to  my  quarters,  where 
I  have  to  dispose  of  a  case  of  some  difficulty?"  said  a 
general  of  division  to  me  one  morning.  We  found 
lying  there  a  man  who  was  said  to  be  a  prisoner,  a 
typical  butternut-colored  Georgia  cracker,  with  his 
chest  riddled  with  buckshot.  A  negro  named  Samp 
son,  in  chains,  was  seated  near  him,  charged  with 
his  attempted  murder. 


262  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  I  could  get  Sampson's  con 
fidence.  He  had  decided  that  he  would  be  hung  and 
that  it  was  useless  for  him  to  attempt  any  defence. 
I  succeeded  in  convincing  him  that  I  was  his  friend 
and  he  finally  gave  way. 

"Yes!  He  had  shot  the  man,"  he  said,  but  he 
was  not  a  rebel  prisoner.  He  was  a  Confederate  who 
had  changed  his  clothing  with  a  prisoner,  and  who 
was  to  have  two  hundred  gold  dollars  for  killing 
General  Geary.  He  had  followed  him  for  four  suc 
cessive  days,  he  said,  and  had  not  interfered  with 
him  until  he  saw  him  with  his  Winchester  fire  at 
the  general,  who  was  passing  on  horseback.  Then 
he  dropped  him.  He  would  do  it  again  if  he  had  to 
die  for  it  every  time. 

"  Why  do  you  keep  so  close  a  watch  over  General 
Geary?"  I  asked. 

"  Why,  because  he  is  one  of  President  Linkum's 
men,  God  bless  him,  and  he  gave  us  our  freedom," 
he  responded.  "I  knew  this  fellow  was  trying  to 
kill  General  Geary.  If  I  could  save  the  general's 
life  I  didn't  care  what  became  of  mine.  I  watched 
him  four  days  and  nights.  Four  times  he  raised  his 
gun  to  kill  the  general,  and  four  times  I  was  ready 
to  send  a  buckshot  cartridge  through  him.  The  last 
time  he  fired.  So  did  I.  If  I  have  killed  him  and 
saved  the  general,  all  right.  It's  no  matter  about 
their  hanging  me."  He  was  not  hung;  his  fidelity 
to  his  deliverers  proved  to  be  a  common  affair. 

One  night  I  was  sleeping  in  the  house  of  a  citizen. 
I  was  dreaming  that  Hardee  and  the  rebel  Wheeler 
had  surrounded  and  were  bombarding  the  city.  I 
dressed  myself  and  rushed  into  the  street,  intending 
to  go  to  our  steamer.  Strong  hands  arrested  and 


SAVANNAH  IN  WINTER  AND  IN  WAR.        263 

forced  me  back  into  the  house.  "Look,"  said  an 
officer,  pointing  toward  the  western  horizon,  where 
the  air  seemed  full  of  bursting  shells. 

"  What  is  the  matter?"  I  finally  asked. 

"  The  armory  is  on  fire.  There  are  20, 000  loaded 
shells  in  it.  Every  street  near  the  armory  has  these 
shells  buried  in  it,  and  they  are  connected  with  the 
armory  by  a  fuse.  These  shells  are  exploding  every 
minute.  No  one  knows  the  arrangement ;  every  one 
may  take  his  chance  in  the  destruction  of  the  city 
now  going  on." 

I  shrank  back  partially  under  a  porch  and  began 
to  reflect  upon  the  situation.  The  arsenal  fronted 
upon  a  street  only  one  block  to  the  left,  at  the  head 
of  which  stood  my  friend's  residence.  South  of  this 
line  the  air  was  filled  with  bursting  shells.  There 
was  a  lofty  tower,  to  the  top  of  which  the  water  was 
carried  by  force  pumps  for  distribution  over  the  city. 
A  shell  opened  the  side  of  this  tower  almost  at  the 
top,  and  a  great  column  of  water  rushed  through  the 
opening  and  descended  in  a  curve  to  the  ground. 

But  for  the  courage  of  Union  soldiers,  the  whole 
city  must  have  been  destroyed.  The  fire  department 
was  cowardly  and  powerless.  The  soldiers  formed 
a  line  around  the  blocks  which  seemed  to  be  in  dan 
ger.  This  line  was  contracted  foot  by  foot  until  the 
area  where  the  shells  had  been  planted  was  defined. 
It  proved  to  be  the  square  on  which  the  armory  stood 
and  two  adjoining  squares  north  of  it.  Water  was 
abundant  and  these  squares  were  speedily  saturated 
with  it.  The  illumination,  and  with  it  the  alarm, 
was  speedily  suppressed.  Now  and  then  a  solitary 
shell  burst  with  a  grumbling,  discontented  sound, 
but  its  particles  fell  upon  the  wet  ground  and  were 


264  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

extinguished.  In  another  hour  the  danger  was 
over. 

General  Sherman  named  a  military  governor  for 
the  city,  gave  him  a  provost's  guard  of  disabled  men, 
and  with  his  army  commenced  that  magnificent 
march  northward  which  terminated  at  the  triumphal 
review  in  Washington  in  the  following  spring.  Colo 
nel  Beckwith  ordered  our  steamer  into  the  service, 
as  her  powerful  engines  and  small  draught  of  water 
eminently  fitted  her  for  coast  work.  Upon  my  repre 
sentation  of  the  importance  of  making  an  early  re 
port  to  the  President,  he  released  the  steamer  and 
loaded  her  with  compressed  bales  of  Confederate  cot 
ton  for  New  York  City.  Her  captain  was  directed 
to  coal  her  from  schooners  just  arrived.  The  captain 
reported  that  there  was  less  coal  than  slate  in  the 
fuel,  and  before  we  were  out  of  the  river  announced 
that  he  could  not  get  coal  enough  out  of  that  stuff  to 
keep  the  vessel  off  shore  in  a  decent  breeze.  I  there 
fore  took  the  responsibility  of  ordering  the  steamer 
into  Hatteras  Inlet,  where  I  knew  there  was  a  sup 
ply  of  fuel. 

For  three  days  I  now  laid  aside  all  thoughts  of  the 
war  and  gave  myself  up  to  physical  science.  An  im 
mense  school  of  porpoises  was  waiting  for  us  just 
outside  the  bar  of  the  Savannah  River,  and  kept  us 
company  all  the  way  to  Hatteras  Inlet.  They  seemed 
to  get  great  enjoyment  out  of  the  trip.  They 
had  no  difficulty  in  keeping  pace  with  the  steamer. 
Scores  at  a  time  shot  out  of  the  water  in  the  form  of 
a  bow,  turned  a  somersault  in  the  air  and  all  came  to 
the  surface  of  the  water,  headed  northward.  As  far 
as  we  could  see  in  every  direction  the  sea  was  alive 
with  porpoises.  Two  big  fellows,  one  on  each  side 


SAVANNAH  IN  WINTER  AND  IN  WAR.         265 

of  the  stem  of  the  vessel,  not  four  inches  below  the 
surface,  kept  pace  with  the  movement  of  the  steamer. 
Lying  upon  the  bowsprit  I  watched  them  for  hours. 
I  was  not  able  to  see  that  they  changed  their  position 
relative  to  the  vessel.  I  went  to  my  stateroom  for 
a  Winchester  rifle.  As  I  Avalked  forward  to  the 
bow  my  eye  swept  the  horizon,  and  the  whole 
surface  of  the  sea  appeared  to  be  alive  with  porpoises. 
I  sent  a  bullet  into  the  body  of  one  swimming  at  the 
vessel's  bow.  It  must  have  passed  through  him,  but 
he  plunged  downward  at  an  angle  of  thirty-five  de 
grees  and  disappeared.  Again  I  swept  the  ocean 
with  my  eye,  and  not  a  porpoise  was  visible.  Every 
one  had  disappeared  and  we  did  not  see  another  on 
our  homeward  voyage.  Why  they  disappeared,  what 
the  communication  was  which  so  promptly  advised 
each  of  his  danger,  I  leave  to  the  reader's  imagina 
tion. 

The  channel  into  Hatteras  Inlet  was  very  intricate, 
but  our  captain  threaded  it  without  difficulty.  Two 
three-masted  schooners  which  went  ashore  only  a 
few  months  previously  were  now  fifty  yards  inland 
and  high  above  the  water-level.  The  tide  ran  out 
with  a  strong  current  which  the  poor  coal  would 
scarcely  make  power  enough  in  our  steamer  to  over 
come.  After  some  time  we  got  well  inside  the  inlet 
and  the  steamer  swung  gently  at  her  anchors. 

Two  companies  of  soldiers  encamped  at  the  inlet 
had  made  a  seine  not  more  than  fifty  feet  long  and 
some  ten  feet  broad.  They  declined  to  fish  for  us, 
but  offered  us  the  use  of  their  net.  Two  men  held 
one  end  of  it  on  the  shore  while  two  others  walked 
out  the  length  of  the  net  into  the  swift  tideway. 
They  had  no  sooner  straightened  the  net  than  the  two 


266  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

men  in  the  tideway  exclaimed  that  they  could  not 
hold  the  net,  while  the  soldiers  shouted  to  them  to 
bring  the  end  ashore.  They  did  so,  describing  a  small 
half -circle,  but  when  they  hauled  in  the  net  it  carried 
more  than  three  barrels  of  fish,  almost  all  of  them 
being  the  young  of  the  striped  bass,  about  ten  inches 
long.  A  more  savory  fish  never  came  out  of  the  sea. 

With  coal  of  a  better  quality  we  made  better  head 
way,  and  in  due  time  were  moored  alongside  the  dock 
at  the  foot  of  Wall  Street.  We  were  not  inclined  to 
say  much  about  our  voyage.  If  there  were  starving 
people  in  Savannah  we  did  not  encounter  them.  The 
citizens  we  met  were  quite  willing  to  accept  our  bene 
factions,  but  they  seemed  to  think  they  were  forag 
ing  on  the  enemy,  and  gave  me  the  impression  that 
they  were  still  unreconstructed  rebels. 

Writing  after  so  many  years,  two  incidents  of  this 
mid-winter  voyage  are  very  fresh  in  my  memory. 
One  is  the  vigorous  and  stalwart  carriage  of  "  Sher 
man's  men"  and  their  faith  in  their  general-in- 
chief.  There  was  no  trace  of  the  braggart  in  their 
bearing  or  conversation.  They  did  not  appear  to 
know  or  very  much  care  whither  they  were  going, 
so  long  as  it  was  northward  and  in  the  direction  of 
the  Confederate  army.  They  called  their  leader  "  the 
old  man,"  but  there  was  no  trace  of  disrespect  and 
much  of  affection  in  the  term.  "We  are  going," 
said  one,  "  wherever  the  old  man  wants  to  go.  He 
always  takes  the  shortest  route  to  the  camp  of  the 
enemy."  General  Sherman,  too,  seemed  very  fond 
of  moving  about  from  corps  to  corps  among  his  men. 
He  could  not  always  be  identified,  but  he  could  be 
followed  by  the  cheers  which  followed  him  every 
where.  Whenever  there  was  unusual  activity  and 


SAVANNAH  IN  WINTER  AND  IN  WAR.         267 

the  disciplined  cheers  of  thousands  of  strong  voices, 
one  usually  saw  a  tall,  sharp-eyed  man,  with  long 
boots  and  a  quick  movement — that  was  Sherman. 
This  army  believed  its  general  to  be  invincible,  he 
believed  that  his  men  were  unconquerable. 

I  saw  none  of  the  "  bummers"  which  I  had  under 
stood  always  followed  the  army.  I  did  see  men  with 
fine  horses  who  did  not  seem  to  be  attached  to  any 
particular  corps  or  divisions  and  whose  movements 
were  free  and  easy.  They  used  to  come  riding  into 
camp,  almost  buried  under  a  very  miscellaneous 
cargo,  principally  of  an  edible  description. 

The  usual  followers  of  the  camp  were  replaced  by 
the  long  procession  of  the  colored,  with  their  faces 
turned  toward  the  land  of  freedom.  It  comprised  all 
ages,  from  the  white-haired  old  uncle  or  mammy  of 
ninety  years  to  the  baby  upon  its  mother's  breast. 
It  was  very  pathetic  to  see  how  they  were  treated  by 
the  soldiers  and  the  teamsters.  I  heard  no  rough,  I 
heard  many  kind  words  spoken  to  the  pilgrims  in 
these  processions.  The  black  faces  of  young  children, 
the  sad  ones  of  their  mothers,  looked  out  from  under 
the  canvas  of  the  army  wagons,  the  mules  in  harness 
contentedly  carried  others,  and  many  were  assisted 
by  the  soldiers.  These  poor  creatures  had  been  aban 
doned  to  starvation  and  death  in  winter  by  those 
who  claimed  to  be  their  owners.  I  thought,  as  I  saw 
and  conversed  with  them,  of  the  words  of  Abraham 
Lincoln:  "Slavery  is  wrong;  slavery  is  unjust; 
slavery  is  cruel !" 

The  most  thoughtful,  conservative  men  whom  I 
met  on  this  journey  were  the  colored  clergymen. 
One  of  our  generals  had  told  me  of  an  interview 
which  had  been  held  with  these  clergymen  during  a 


268  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

recent  visit  of  Secretary  Stanton,  when  the  Secre 
tary,  General  Sherman,  and  all  the  generals  present 
had  been  surprised  by  the  intelligence  and  good  sense 
they  had  exhibited  in  discussing  the  complicated 
questions  touching  their  own  race  which  had  to  be 
immediately  dealt  with  by  the  general  of  the  army. 
My  informant  said  that  after  the  close  of  the  inter 
view  the  Secretary  declared  that  the  discussion  of 
these  subjects  by  a  dozen  of  these  clergymen  would 
have  been  creditable  and  would  have  excited  interest 
in  a  meeting  of  the  Cabinet,  and  it  gave  him  new 
hopes  for  the  future  of  the  colored  race.  The  conduct 
of  the  colored  people  of  Savannah,  also,  was  most 
creditable.  Sherman's  army  brought  them  freedom. 
If  their  joy  had  been  manifested  in  some  excesses, 
no  one  would  have  found  fault  with  them.  But  they 
knew  how  to  govern  themselves.  They  were  civil, 
respectful  even,  to  their  old  masters.  For  the  soldiers, 
or  any  who  came  with  us  from  the  North,  they  were 
quick  to  perform  any  service.  They  even  consulted 
the  military  governor  (if  I  rightly  remember,  it  was 
General  Getty  [?])  before  they  decided  that  they 
would  not  work  for  the  Southerners  except  under  a 
promise  of  payment  in  good  Northern  money.  One 
of  the  most  extraordinary  occurrences  of  the  war 
was  the  manner  in  which  the  colored  race  received 
its  freedom. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

TEACHING  SCHOOL  ON  HOG  ISLAND — ITS  ADVAN 
TAGES  AND  PLEASANT  MEMORIES. 

IF  a  census  had  been  taken  fifty  years  ago  of  the 
men  who,  unassisted,  had  successfully  fought  the 
battle  of  life,  a  large  majority  of  them  would  have 
said  that  their  first  money  was  earned  by  teaching  a 
district  school.  I  have  never  happened  to  know  one 
who  did  not  remember  his  experiences  as  a  teacher 
with  pleasure,  and  as  a  very  important  part  of  his 
own  education.  To  govern  a  school  he  had  first  to 
learn  how  to  govern  himself,  and  from  the  little  men 
and  women  in  whom  he  could  not  fail  to  become  in 
terested,  he  took  his  best  lessons  in  the  study  of  hu 
man  nature.  Teaching  is  less  popular  now,  and  the 
same  necessity  which  existed  in  my  boyhood  is  not 
so  prevalent  as  it  was  then,  and  yet  I  should  not 
hesitate  to  predict  more  successful  lives  for  those  who 
are  teaching  school  this  winter  than  for  the  more  ap 
parently  fortunate  ones  who  are  devoting  themselves 
to  athletic  or  other  sports  on  a  liberal  allowance  from 
the  fortunes  of  their  ancestors. 

An  uncle  who  was  a  leading  lawyer  in  Franklin 
County  was  kind  enough  not  only  to  give  me  a  place 
in  his  law  office,  but  to  take  me  into  his  family  in 
the  last  half  of  my  eighteenth  year.  He  lived  in  the 
village  of  Swanton  Falls,  a  community  which,  on  ac 
count  of  its  sympathy  with  the  Canadians  in  the 

269 


270  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

Papineau  rebellion  and  its  resistance  to  the  Presi 
dent's  proclamation  of  neutrality,  had  acquired  the 
name  of  "the  Kingdom  of  Swanton." 

Hog  Island,  a  part  of  the  township  of  Swanton,  is 
a  portion  of  land  surrounded  by  the  waters  of  Mis- 
sisquoi  Bay  and  River.  Its  divisions  were  the  "  North 
End"  and  the  "South  End."  The  "North  End" 
comprised  an  extensive  marsh,  a  part  of  which  was 
covered  with  a  first  growth  of  pitch-pine  and  a  very 
limited  area  of  farming  lands.  It  was  inhabited  by 
large  families  of  the  Honsingers,  the  Donaldsons,  and 
the  Carleys,  great  fishermen  and  mighty  hunters  of 
muskrats  who  disdained  all  such  useless  expenditures 
as  for  "skoolin,"  and  no  school  had  been  maintained 
among  them  within  the  memory  of  man.  The  "  South 
End,"  separated  from  the  "  mainland  "  by  Maquam 
Bay,  about  two  miles  in  width,  was  good  agricul 
tural  land,  occupied  by  a  number  of  farmers,  who 
were  rough  and  unpolished,  but  good-hearted,  excel 
lent  people  with  large  families  of  children,  for  whose 
benefit  they  desired  to  maintain  a  school  during  the 
winter  months  of  the  year.  The  "  North-enders  " 
were  litigious,  and  their  numerous  lawsuits  before  a 
justice  of  the  peace  against  their  neighbors  of  the 
"  South  End, "  which  were  defended  by  my  uncle,  had 
made  me  acquainted  with  most  of  the  farmers  on  the 
southern  part  of  the  island. 

One  afternoon  in  November  three  of  these  farmers 
visited  the  office.  I  explained  that  my  uncle  was 
absent,  when  to  my  surprise  they  said  that  their  busi 
ness  was  with  me.  They  were  the  "  prudential  com 
mittee,"  and  wished  to  hire  me  to  teach  their  district 
school.  The  term  was  three  months;  the  master 
was  to  "board  round,"  that  is,  he  was  to  board  with 


TEACHING  SCHOOL  ON  HOG  ISLAND.         271 

each  family  in  proportion  to  its  number  of  pupils ; 
the  wages  were  to  be  twelve  dollars  per  month  or 
thirty-six  dollars  for  the  term.  They  said  the  school 
was  a  small  one,  there  were  only  about  twenty  schol 
ars,  and  the  district  had  voted  that  twelve  dollars  a 
month  was  all  they  could  afford  to  pay. 

I  explained  that  I  had  had  no  experience  in  teach 
ing,  but  if  they  thought  I  would  suit  them  I  would 
accept  their  terms.  I  then  asked  them  why  they 
had  waited  until  the  last  week  in  November  before 
engaging  their  teacher,  and  was  informed  that  two 
teachers  had  opened  the  school  already  that  season, 
but  both  had  left,  one  at  the  close  of  the  second,  the 
other  of  the  fourth  day.  The  fact  was,  they  said, 
that  the  large  boys  were  a  "  leetle  bit  onruly ;"  they 
had  smoked  out  the  first  teacher  by  climbing  on  the 
roof  of  the  school-house  and  stopping  up  the  chimney 
with  pieces  of  turf.  The  second  teacher  they  had 
stood  on  his  head  in  a  snow-drift;  he  was  dissatisfied 
and  left.  The  previous  winter  they  had  entirely 
broken  up  the  school.  Now  the  committee  had  de 
termined  to  have  a  school,  and  if  I  would  take  the 
place,  one  of  the  committee  would  come  to  the  school 
and  "  help  me  lick  any  boy  who  undertook  to  cut  up 
any  monkey  shines.  The  boys  had  all  been  licked 
at  home  by  their  fathers,"  he  said,  "  but  it  didn't  seem 
to  do  no  good.  If  they  were  licked  every  day  at 
school  the  deviltry  could  be  licked  out  ov  'em. "  They 
were  greatly  surprised  when  I  told  them  that  I  should 
decline  the  assistance  of  the  committee,  that  I  did 
not  believe  in  "  licking, "  and  if  I  taught  the  school  it 
would  be  without  assistance  and  without  flogging. 

We  closed  the  contract,  but  the  committee  were 
all  despondent.  They  did  not  believe  I  could  keep 


272  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

the  school  a  week  unless  the  larger  boys  were  "  licked." 
One  of  them  said  that  his  own  boy  was  about  the 
worst  of  the  lot — the  very  devil  must  be  in  him,  for 
he  had  licked  him  until  he  was  tired  and  it  only 
seemed  to  make  him  worse. 

Bright  and  early  on  the  following  Monday  morning 
I  was  on  hand.  A  roaring  fire  had  warmed  up  the 
log  school-house,  and  all  the  scholars  were  present  to 
see  the  new  master.  The  girls  were  bright  and  pleas 
ant-faced,  but  four  of  the  boys,  each  heavier  and  older 
than  myself,  looked  very  unpromising,  and  I  saw  at 
once  that  my  trouble  was  to  come  from  them. 

I  used  the  first  two  days  in  getting  acquainted  with 
my  pupils,  in  pleasant  conversation  and  dividing  them 
into  classes.  For  a  day  or  two  afterward  all  went 
smoothly.  But  on  Thursday  night  one  of  the  older 
girls  said  she  wanted  to  speak  to  me  after  the  school. 
After  the  other  scholars  had  left,  she  told  me  that  the 
boys  had  decided  to  send  me  home  to  Swanton  the 
next  (Friday)  morning.  Three  of  them  were  in  the 
plot.  One  of  the  four  said  he  liked  the  master ;  he 
believed  he  was  "  square "  and  he  wouldn't  try  to 
drive  him  out.  But  he  had  agreed  to  stand  neutral. 
Mart.  Clark  had  undertaken  alone  to  stand  the  mas 
ter  on  his  head  in  a  snow-drift,  and  on  the  first  trial 
the  others  were  not  to  interfere.  She  had  told  them 
that  she  should  tell  the  master ;  they  had  abused  her 
and  called  her  a  tell-tale  and  said  they  would  never 
speak  to  her  again.  But  she  didn't  care ;  she  thought 
it  was  real  mean,  and  so  she  had  told  me.  She  hoped 
I  would  get  a  club  and  beat  out  their  brains  if  they 
touched  me. 

I  was  the  proprietor  of  a  walnut  ruler,  two  feet 
long,  and  one  of  its  edges  was  bevelled.  It  was 


TEACHING  SCHOOL  ON  HOG  ISLAND.         273 

very  heavy,  and  when  in  school  I  carried  it  con 
stantly  in  my  hand.  The  next  morning  the  school 
was  in  a  high  state  of  expectation.  It  was  nearly  an 
hour  before  the  champion  appeared.  He  swaggered 
into  the  room  to  his  place  on  one  of  the  high  seats 
which  had  a  plank  desk  in  front  of  it,  and  sat  down 
with  his  cap  on.  I  walked  up  to  his  seat  and  said 
in  a  pleasant  tone,  "  Martin,  take  off  your  cap !" 

"  I  shan't  take  off  my  cap  for  no  Swanton  Falls 
pettifogger !"  was  his  emphatic  reply. 

A  moment  afterward  his  cap  was  sailing  across 
the  room,  and  still  holding  the  ruler,  I  had  seized  his 
collar  with  both  hands  and  drawn  him  out  of  his  seat 
with  such  force  that  the  bench  in  front  was  carried 
away  and  he  sprawled  over  it  on  to  the  floor.  He 
was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant  and  seized  my  collar 
with  his  right  hand.  His  arm  was  extended,  the 
large  muscle  strained  to  its  utmost  tension.  That 
muscle  I  struck  with  the  sharp  edge  of  the  ruler  with 
all  the  force  of  my  right  arm.  With  a  roar  of  pain 
like  a  wounded  bull  he  relaxed  his  grasp  and  half 
fell  to  the  floor. 

"  Goll  darn  ye !  You  have  broke  my  arm !"  he  ex 
claimed,  grasping  the  place  where  the  blow  fell,  and 
limping  about  the  room  with  a  groan  at  every  step. 
I  let  him  groan  for  a  short  time,  and  then  said : 

"  Your  arm  will  feel  better  when  it  stops  aching. 
Now  I  think  you  had  better  pick  up  your  cap,  go  to 
your  seat,  and  behave  yourself.  Don't  you?" 

He  stood  for  a  moment  looking  down  upon  the 
floor  in  a  brown-study.  Some  idea  seemed  to  be  strug 
gling  into  his  mind.  Then  with  the  observation, 
"By  Goll!  I  guess  I  had,"  he  picked  up  his  cap  and 
went  to  his  seat.  I  went  on  with  my  exercises.  Soon 
18 


274  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

a  very  subdued  voice  asked,  "  Master,  can  I  speak  to 
you  alone?"  "Certainly,"  I  said,  and  called  him  to 
my  desk.  There  in  a  whisper  he  said :  "  My  arm 
hurts  so  that  I  can't  study  nor  do  nothing.  I  wish 
you  would  let  me  go  home  and  bathe  it  with  some 
liniment.  If  I  stay  till  school  is  dismissed  the  boys 
will  laugh  at  me." 

I  told  him  that  he  might  go  home,  but  first  I 
wanted  him  to  hear  what  I  had  to  say  to  the  boys. 
Turning  to  them  I  said :  "  Martin  and  I  have  settled 
this  matter  between  us.  Any  boy  that  speaks  to  him 
about  it  will  have  me  to  settle  with. "  To  Martin  I 
said :  "  Come  down  to  Colonel  Benjamin's,  where  I 
am  boarding,  and  see  me  this  evening." 

He  came  to  see  me  as  I  requested.  In  a  few  min 
utes  I  got  his  confidence  and  found  that  he  had  prob 
ably  never  had  any  one  take  any  interest  in  him  or 
speak  to  him  kindly.  His  mother  had  died  when  he 
was  an  infant.  I  told  him  I  had  come  there  to  teach 
that  school.  I  was  going  to  do  it  and  I  wanted  him 
to  help  me.  If  he  would,  we  would  have  no  trouble 
with  the  other  boys ;  he  could  make  my  work  easy 
and  I  hoped  to  be  able  to  teach  him  a  great  deal  in 
the  next  three  months.  I  told  him  not  to  make  any 
promises  then,  but  to  think  over  what  I  had  said  to 
him. 

The  next  morning  he  came  early  and  said  he  didn't 
wish  to  make  any  promises,  but  I  would  see.  And  I 
did  see.  He  became  my  warm  friend.  He  always 
came  and  built  the  fire  and  had  the  school-house  warm 
before  my  arrival.  He  told  me  that  the  boys  had  all 
decided  that  it  was  better  to  make  me  their  friend  than 
their  enemy.  But  they  could  not  understand  why  I 
didn't  use  the  whip.  Every  teacher  did  that  they 


TEACHING  SCHOOL  ON  HOG  ISLAND.         275 

had  ever  heard  of ;  they  expected  it,  and  if  they  had 
not,  they  would  not  have  thought  of  resisting  me. 

In  that  school  I  never  struck  another  scholar.  The 
larger  boys  were  ready  to  do  anything  for  me.  They 
found  that  I  wanted  to  go  to  Swantcn  every  Satur 
day  and  to  return  on  Monday  morning.  I  had  in 
tended  to  skate  two  miles  across  the  bay  and  then 
walk  nearly  two  miles  to  S wanton.  I  was  to  return 
in  the  same  manner.  The  boys  arranged  for  one  of 
them  to  take  me  home  and  another  to  come  for  me 
Monday  mornings.  Every  Monday  morning  the 
team  was  at  my  uncle's  door  at  daylight,  having  al 
ready  been  driven  five  miles  from  Hog  Island. 

The  reader  may  think  that  "  boarding  round  "  was 
a  hardship.  It  was  anything  but  that.  The  best  bed 
and  the  best  room  were  for  the  master.  The  nice 
things  they  used  to  have  cooked  for  him — the  dough 
nuts,  the  sausages,  the  spare  ribs  roasted,  the  mince 
pies !  their  memory  is  fragrant.  I  would  rather  have 
them  now  than  a  dinner  at  Delmonico's. 

There  is  one  article  of  the  Hog  Island  menu  which 
I  must  perpetuate  in  history.  In  the  months  of  Octo 
ber,  and  November  there  is  a  fish  caught  off  the 
Island  called  by  the  Islanders  the  white  fish  or  the 
frost  fish.  I  think  it  is  a  land-locked  shad  with  its 
form  and  flavor  modified  by  its  new  conditions.  The 
Islanders  select  those  which  are  in  the  best  condition, 
dress  and  corn  them.  In  the  winter  they  cut  a  hole 
through  the  ice  and  sink  the  fish  in  the  pure  cold 
water  and  leave  it  there  until  it  is  freshened  so  that 
only  just  the  suspicion  of  a  saltish  flavor  remains. 
Then  properly  broiled  with  butter  and  pepper,  it 
is  a  breakfast  fit  for  a  gentleman  or  the  school-master, 
and  too  good  for  any  but  very  honest  men. 


276  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

There  was  not  another  disagreeable  incident  in  the 
school.  I  took  a  personal  interest  in  every  scholar, 
and  if  they  did  not  learn  it  was  no  fault  of  mine. 
Every  one  of  them  grew  up  to  be  my  friend.  Poor 
Martin  Clark  became  a  sturdy,  honest  farmer  and 
lost  his  life  in  a  heroic  and  partially  successful  effort 
to  save  the  lives  of  a  party  whose  boat  had  been 
swamped  in  a  storm.  Many  years  later  I  met  on 
Broadway  a  gentleman  whose  face  wore  a  familiar 
look.  "Come  into  my  store,"  he  said,  and  took  me 
into  a  large  establishment  over  which  the  sign  bore 
his  own  name.  "I  know  you,"  he  said,  "if  you  do 
not  know  me.  I  was  one  of  your  scholars  on  Hog- 
Island." 

I  received  my  thirty-six  dollars  in  new  and  crisp 
bank-notes  with  great  satisfaction.  It  was  almost 
Jie  first  money  I  earned,  and  I  loaned  it  to  my  uncle 
at  ten  per  cent  interest.  The  first  money  I  ever  earned 
was  my  salary  as  clerk  of  a  militia  company.  It  was 
paid  in  an  order  on  the  treasury  of  the  State  for  five 
dollars,  which  I  promptly  exchanged  for  Leverett's 
"Latin  Lexicon,"  which  now,  after  hard  usage  by 
two  generations,  stands  upon  a  shelf  in  my  library. 
Nor  was  this  all  the  profit  of  my  Island  experience. 
In  the  following  October  the  committee  of  the  school 
district  at  Swanton  Falls,  hearing  of  the  satisfaction 
I  had  given  on  the  Island,  offered  me  the  position  of 
teacher  for  four  months,  with  board  at  the  hotel  and 
the  .munificent  compensation  of  fifty  dollars  per 
month. 

I  accepted  the  offer,  and  I  taught,  or  tried  to  teach, 
the  school.  At  its  close,  in  an  exhibition  to  which 
the  public  was  admitted,  I  received  a  vote  of  thanks 
and  a  beautifully  engrossed  certificate  from  the  com- 


TEACHING  SCHOOL  ON  HOG   ISLAND.        277 

mittee  attesting  my  success  as  a  teacher  and  the  satis 
faction  I  had  given  to  the  district. 

The  reader  will  be  able  to  estimate  the  measure  of 
my  actual  success  when  I  inform  him  or  her  that  the 
average  attendance  of  scholars  was  above  one  hun 
dred  and  that  I  was  supposed  to  be  the  only  teacher. 
I  am  happy  to  say  that  the  introduction  of  graded 
schools  and  a  better  system  has  since  made  education 
more  practical.  I  appointed  under  me  a  number  of 
subordinate  teachers,  who  taught  themselves  by  teach 
ing  others,  and  I  thus  secured  enough  time  to  be  of 
some  service  to  the  rest  of  the  school. 

This  winter's  experience  again  was  of  great  service 
to  me,  while  it  had  no  incidents  of  so  striking  a  char 
acter  as  that  with  the  ruler  on  Hog  Island.  It  taught 
me  self-control  and  economy  of  time,  and  it  was  the 
source  afterward  of  many  pleasant  and  some  very 
sad  thoughts.  I  heard  from  time  to  time  of  my 
Swanton  scholars.  There  were  two  affectionate,  ex 
cellent  little  white-headed  boys.  Their  names  were 
Elisha  and  Valentine  Barney.  The  last  time  I  saw 
them  was  when  they  received  their  prizes  at  my 
hands  at  the  ages  of  about  eight  and  ten  years.  When 
I  next  heard  of  them  they  were  officers,  bravely  fight 
ing  for  their  country.  One  of  them  led  his  regiment 
of  four  hundred  and  forty-one  men  into  the  bloody 
Wilderness  in  the  battle  summer  of  1864.  The  regi 
ment  never  retreated,  and  when  it  again  advanced 
one  hundred  and  ninety-six  of  their  number  re 
mained  dead  or  wounded  on  the  field.  Among  those 
wounded  to  death  was  their  brave,  loyal  colonel,  my 
scholar.  His  brother  was  another  soldier  with  an 
excellent  record  who  survived  the  war.  Two  minis 
ters,  a  lawyer,  two  physicians,  and  two  wholesale 


278  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

merchants  were  also  in  my  school.  I  remember  two 
sons  of  a  Canadian  Frenchman,  on  account  of  their 
intelligence.  I  believe  their  father  bore  the  noted 
name  of  Richelieu.  He  was  very  poor,  but  he  must 
have  had  a  good  wife,  for  the  boys  were  known  by 
their  cleanly  appearance  and  courteous  manners. 
Within  two  years  I  met  the  agent  in  charge  of  the 
old  and  justly  celebrated  line  of  steamers  on  Lake 
Champlaiii.  I  had  heard  him  spoken  of  by  many  as 
a  business  man  of  known  integrity  who  had  been  a 
popular  captain  of  one  of  the  steamboats  he  now  con 
trolled.  "I  have  long  wished  to  see  you,"  he  said. 
"  I  was  one  of  your  scholars  at  Swanton  Falls.  My 
name  is  Rushlow. "  It  was  my  bright  little  Canadian 
boy  grown  to  be  a  business  man  of  great  ability  and 
respected  by  all  who  knew  him.  His  brother  is  a 
successful  farmer  in  the  West.  Those  who  think  I 
was  not  glad  to  meet  the  captain,  and  did  not  feel 
that  I  had  done  something  toward  directing  him  into 
the  paths  of  integrity  and  success,  I  am  sure  have 
never  taught  a  district  school.  I  have,  and  I  am 
proud  of  it.  I  should  have  been  a  better  man  if  I 
had  had  more  experience  as  a  teacher, 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE  BOOK  CHASE— NON-EXISTENCE  OF  UNIQUE 
COPIES  —  A  HUNT  FOR  "  SANDERS'  INDIAN 
WARS"  AND  "THE  CONTRAST,"  THE  FIRST 
AMERICAN  PLAY — STOLEN  ENGRAVINGS  AND 
DRAWINGS. 

THE  pleasures  of  the  chase  are  almost  coeval  with 
the  sinf ulness  of  man.  A  great-grandson  of  Noah 
enjoyed  them,  for  "  he  was  a  mighty  hunter  before 
the  Lord."  They  are  common  to  man  without  "ref 
erence  to  race,  color,  or  previous  condition  of  servi 
tude."  They  may  vary  with  climate  and  race,  but 
from  Eskimo  to  Tasmanian  all  men  at  some  period 
of  their  lives  are  hunters.  The  game  varies  with 
time,  place,  and  opportunity,  but  all  living  and  some 
fossil  animals  of  the  air,  the  forest,  and  the  ocean 
have  been  objects  of  the  chase.  Some  men  seem  to 
have  experienced  a  keen  delight  in  hunting  their  own 
race.  In  the  border  to  the  rare  map  in  the  "  Novus 
Orbis"  of  Gryna3us,  of  1555,  engraved  by  Holbein, 
there  is  a  picture  of  a  party  of  these  man-hunters. 
One  leads  a  horse  with  two  youths,  their  limbs  trussed 
together,  and  thrown  across  the  horse's  back,  in  the 
manner  of  the  Highland  gillie  with  his  pony  carry 
ing  the  stags  which  have  fallen  before  the  rifle  of  the 
deer-stalker;  another  is  hanging  the  human  limbs 
which  he  has  carved,  upon  the  projections  of  his  hut. 
From  latest  advices  something  of  this  kind  may  be 
still  going  on  in  the  heart  of  the  "dark  continent." 

279 


280  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

But  we  may  turn  from  all  the  savage,  cruel,  and 
offensive  pictures  of  the  chase  to  a  species  of  its  di 
versions  in  which  no  butchered  bird  or  animal  is  the 
quarry,  but  books  and  engravings  are  its  nobler 
game.  The  chase  of  the  well  informed  and  equipped 
book-hunter  has  pleasures  as  keen,  excitements  as 
thrilling,  moments  as  anxious,  successes  as  gratify 
ing,  as  any  kind  of  sport,  ever  since  Nimrod's  time, 
practised  or  pursued  by  man.  It  is  the  object  of 
the  present  article  to  sketch  some  of  the  requisites 
for  success  in  this  species  of  the  chase  and  some  of 
the  dangerous  pitfalls  which  constitute  its  chief  ob 
structions.  Nothing  more  than  a  sketch  is  proposed, 
for  the  limits  of  this  chapter  preclude  any  attempt  at 
an  exhaustive  treatment  of  the  subject. 

The  successful  book-hunter,  like  the  poet,  must  be 
born,  he  cannot  be  wholly  made.  He  must  have  some 
natural  qualifications  which  may  be  cultivated  by 
education  and  matured  by  experience.  He  must 
learn  to  exercise  and  abide  by  his  own  judgment.  If 
he  does  not  he  will  be  the  subject  of  constant  and  cun 
ning  imposition.  He  must  learn  the  haunts  of  his 
game,  where  it  is  not,  as  well  as  where  it  is  to  be 
found,  for  the  earth  is  too  broad  to  be  hunted  all  over. 
He  should  not  be  discouraged  by  any  number  of  fail 
ures.  He  should  not  begin  the  hunt  until  he  knows 
that  its  object  exists,  but  once  started  he  should  fol 
low  it  with  the  scent  of  the  bloodhound  and  the  per 
sistence  of  the  beagle,  if  necessary,  through  a  score  of 
years,  to  final  capture.  The  longer  and  more  trouble 
some  his  pursuit,  the  more  valuable  will  be  his  suc 
cess  when  it  is  finally  attaineed. 

There  are  a  few  things  upon  which  the  experienced 
book-hunter  will  never  waste  any  time.  One  of 


THE  BOOK  CHASE.  281 

these  is  a  unique  copy  of  a  book  or  a  print.  They 
have  no  existence.  I  do  not  say  that  such  a  thing 
is  impossible,  but  I  venture  to  assert  that  it  is  at  the 
present  time  unknown.  One  or  two  copies  of  a  book 
may  have  been  printed  upon  vellum  or  on  a  peculiar 
paper,  one  or  two  impressions  of  a  print  may  be 
taken  from  a  plate  which  is  then  changed,  but  these 
are  not  unique  in  the  book  sense  of  the  term.  When 
the  enthusiaistic  maker  of  catalogues,  after  exhaust 
ing  the  vocabulary  of  such  superlatives  as  "most 
excessive  rarity, "  "  of  unheard-of  scarcity, "  speaks  of 
a  copy  as  unique,  he  means  that  the  book  was  pub 
lished  regularly,  and  that  by  use,  destruction,  or  other 
wise  all  the  copies  except  the  one  in  question,  of  the 
particular  dimensions  and  edition,  have  ceased  to 
exist.  In  this  sense,  while  I  know  of  a  score  of  books 
which  have  been  sold  as  unique,  I  know  of  none  ac 
tually  existing.  I  do  not  believe  in  unique  copies, 
and  I  think  the  general  experience  of  collectors  jus 
tifies  my  incredulity. 

"  Made-up  "  copies  are  a  continuing  and  increasing 
nuisance  to  the  collector.  The  only  satisfying  object 
to  his  soul  is  the  perfect  book  in  its  absolute  integrity, 
untouched  by  the  vandal  knife  of  the  binder,  just  as 
its  signatures  were  assembled  when  they  came  from 
the  press.  A  made-up  copy,  created  by  taking  leaves 
from  a  half-dozen  imperfect  copies,  with  its  defects 
mended  by  the  pen  or  by  the  type  of  to-day,  is  a 
fraud.  Such  a  thing  of  shreds  and  patches  is  like  the 
patched  garment  which  a  gentleman,  instead  of  wear 
ing  himself,  would  give  to  the  first  beggar.  The  im 
position  has  reached  enormous  proportions  and  in 
creases  daily.  It  is  but  a  few  months  since  that  I 
received  from  a  German  city  a  booksellers'  catalogue 


282  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

which  described  as  perfect  the  first  edition  of  the 
"  Heures  "  of  Geoff  roy  Tory,  a  rare  book,  for  which 
a  full  price  was  named.  The  booksellers  were  in 
formed  that  if  the  book  was  all  right  I  would  buy  it, 
but  I  would  not  purchase  it  without  first  collating  it. 
They  sent  it  to  me.  Its  most  interesting  quality 
should  have  been  a  double  or  folded  engraving  called 
the  "  Angelic  Salutation. "  At  the  first  turning  over 
the  leaves  I  found  this  print  a  modern  counterfeit, 
and  the  volume  made  up  of  not  less  than  four  imper 
fect  copies.  It  was  an  impudent  fraud,  not  admissible 
into  a  genuine  collector's  library,  not  worth  a  twen 
tieth  of  the  price  demanded. 

Without  further  generalization  let  me  say  that  the 
actual  incidents  of  the  chase  for  books  and  prints  are 
always  the  most  instructive.  I  will  proceed  to  de 
scribe  some  of  my  own  experiences  in  this  species  of 
diversion.  Many  years  ago  I  began  to  collect  books 
relating  to  Vermont  printed  before  1850.  In  the 
early  years  of  Vermont  history  a  violent  controversy 
existed  with  New  York,  which,  as  there  was  no  news 
paper  in  the  State,  was  wholly  carried  on  by  pamph 
lets.  They  were  nearly  a  score  in  number  written  by 
Ethan  and  Ira  Allen  and  Stephen  Roe  Bradley.  These 
had  become  excessively  rare,  and  yet  I  never  knew  of 
one  which  I  could  not  capture  in  a  chase  of  a  couple 
of  years.  My  first  real  difficulty  was  in  the  hunt 
for  a  book  printed  in  1812  of  the  following  title : 

A  HISTORY  OF  THE  INDIAN  WARS,  ETC. 

( Written  in  Vermont) 
Montpelier,  Vt.     Published  by  Wright  &  Sibley,  1812. 

This  title  stood  high  up  in  my  list  of  wants  for 
many  years.  I  knew  that  such  a  book  had  been  writ- 


THE  BOOK  CHASE.  283 

ten  and  printed.  Its  author  was  the  Rev.  Daniel 
Sanders.  It  was  a  small  duodecimo  of  about  three 
hundred  pages,  in  form  closely  resembling  "  Watts 
and  Select "  hymn  book.  There  was  a  copy  of  it  sold 
at  the  auction  sale  of  the  books  of  Mr.  Fisher  about 
18GG,  where  it  was  described  as  of  "  most  excessive 
rarity,"  and  brought  an  enormous  price,  some  two 
hundred  dollars.  I  had  held  this  copy  in  my  hands. 
There  was  no  doubt  whatever  of  its  existence.  But 
no  second  copy  ever  appeared  in  commerce.  Why 
had  a  book  published  as  late  as  1812  become  so  rare 
that  only  one  copy  of  it  was  known,  which  had  already 
gained  the  reputation  of  a  unique  copy  ?  W  hy  shoul  :1 
it  be  more  scarce  than  even  the  Boston  edition  of 
"Hubbard's  Indian  Wars,"  with  the  genuine  map, 
published  in  1677,  almost  a  century  and  a  half  earlier? 
Such  a  book  must  have  a  history  which  would  give 
some  account  of  its  disappearance.  I  gave  up  the 
chase  for  the  book  and  commenced  a  determined 
search  for  its  history. 

The  booksellers,  who  knew  upon  what  subjects  I 
was  collecting,  frequently  sent  me  books  relating  to 
Vermont,  on  approval.  In  a  package  sent  by  one  of 
them  I  found  two  octavo  volumes  called  "  The  Lit 
erary  and  Philosophical  Repertory,"  published  in 
numbers,  issued  at  irregular  intervals,  the  two  vol 
umes,  of  about  five  hundred  pages  each,  covering  the 
time  frem  1812  to  1818.  It  was  ''edited  by  a  num 
ber  of  gentlemen  "  and  printed  at  Middlebury,  Ver 
mont.  There  was  no  index,  but  upon  a  careful  read 
ing  of  its  contents,  at  page  349  I  found  a  review  of 
"  Sanders'  Indian  Wars "  which  put  me  upon  the 
track  of  its  history. 

It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  monthly  maga- 


284  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

zine  originated  in  the  present  century,  or  in  any 
American  city.  As  early  as  1795,  one  was  published 
in  Rutland,  Vt.,  as  large  as  Scribner's,  without  its 
advertisements,  and  perhaps  of  equal  literary  merit. 
"  The  Literary  and  Philosophical  Repertory  "  was  an 
other,  the  origin  of  which  will  be  found  in  Vermont 
history.  In  the  early  part  of  the  present  century 
Burlington  and  Middlebury  each  established  a  col 
lege,  which  two  institutions  have  ever  since  been 
maintained  in  a  competition  with  which  that  between 
Harvard  and  Yale  bears  no  comparison.  Both  col 
leges  were  orthodox.  Their  professors  were  scholars, 
ministers  of  strong  intellectual  powers,  but  the  first 
and  indispensable  qualification  of  a  professor  or  tutor 
in  either  was  that  he  should  be  a  disciple  and  follower 
of  John  Calvin.  A  candidate  might  be  deficient  in 
his  mathematics,  his  literature,  his  languages,  and 
his  athletics;  such  defects  could  be  supplied.  But 
unless  his  theology  was  unexceptionable  he  was  re 
jected.  The  other  qualities  related  to  the  present 
state  of  man.  His  theology  touched  his  future  con 
dition.  If  there  was  any  flaw  or  defect  in  that,  Satan 
would  be  sure  to  detect  it  and  promptly  take  iiim 
into  his  camp. 

Now  1812  was  just  about  the  time  that  Unitarian- 
ism  was  experiencing  a  revival,  and  the  Rev.  Daniel 
Sanders  was  a  captive  to  it.  Perhaps  it  would  be 
more  appropriate  to  say  that  he  had  caught  the  in 
fection  and  had  a  slight  attack  of  the  disease,  some 
thing  like  a  man  who  takes  the  small-pox  by  inocu 
lation.  But  it  left  some  scars  upon  his  mind,  and 
these  were  more  or  less  apparent  in  his  literary  pro 
ductions.  He  had  been  appointed  President  of  the 
University  of  Vermont  at  Burlington.  How  his  Uni- 


SANDERS'   INDIAN  WAR.  285 

tarian  tendencies  came  to  be  passed  over,  we  do  not 
know.  Shortly  after  his  appointment  he  had  written 
"The  History  of  Indian  Wars." 

Mr.  John  Hough  was  a  professor  in  Middlebury 
College.  He  was  a  Calvinist  of  the  straightest  sect. 
In  his  opinion  a  Unitarian — one  who  rejected  the 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity — was  an  awful  man.  He 
would  have  been  a  Good  Samaritan  to  a  criminal  of 
any  other  kind,  but  he  regarded  a  Unitarian  as  the 
enemy  of  the  race — hostis  humani  generis. 

Professor  Hough  wielded  a  very  sharp  pen.  Car- 
lyle  himself  could  not  have  compressed  into  a  literary 
criticism  any  more  caustic  contempt.  Judged  from 
his  writings  he  must  have  had  an  analytical  intellect 
and  extraordinary  felicity  of  expression.  When, 
therefore,  some  enemy  of  the  Rev.  Daniel  Sanders 
put  it  into  his  heart  to  write  a  "History  of  Indian 
Wars,"  print  it,  and  send  only  four  or  five  copies  to 
his  friends  before  the  book  was  ready  for  sale,  one  of 
these  copies,  by  accident,  fell  into  the  hands  of  Pro 
fessor  Hough;  and  the  Rev.  Daniel  was  undone. 
The  Lord  had  delivered  that  Unitarian  into  orthodox 
hands.  Professor  Hough  wrote  a  criticism  of  the 
book  and  published  it  in  the  number  of  "  The  Liter 
ary  and  Philosophical  Repertory"  for  November,  1813. 
It  occupies  twenty-five  octavo  pages.  He  not  only 
criticised  the  book,  but  he  extinguished  the  literary 
aspirations  of  its  author.  It  was  indeed  a  cruel  piece 
of  work.  He  flayed  the  author  alive,  he  bound  him 
to  the  stake  and  burned  him  with  a  slow  fire,  he  tor 
tured  him  to  his  literary  death.  He  gave  him  ele 
mentary  instruction  in  grammar,  rules  for  English 
composition.  He  showed  that  his  facts  were  not 
true,  that  there  was  nothing  new  in  the  book  except 


286  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

that  which  was  false,  as  every  one  but  the  author 
knew.  But  the  brilliancy  of  the  criticism  appears 
when  the  critic  reaches  the  author's  theology.  He 
revelled  in  this  part  of  his  work ;  he  speared  the  Rev. 
Daniel  with  his  pen,  and  held  him  up  to  exhibition 
like  an  insect  transfixed  with  a  pin.  He  shot  more 
arrows  into  him  than  St.  Sebastian  bears  in  his  body. 
The  criticism  concluded  in  this  language  of  excoria 
tion  :  "  This  work  then  is  adapted  to  create  in  the 
minds  of  the  young,  the  uninformed,  and  the  unwary, 
for  on  others  it  can  have  no  influence,  the  most  mis 
chievous  and  unfounded  associations.  It  is  plainly 
suited  to  lead  them  to  associate  hypocrisy  arid  cor 
ruption  with  the  appearance  of  piety,  and  the  most 
dire  malignity  with  zeal  for  divine  truth.  The 
author  richly  merits  the  severest  detestation  of  every 
individual  who  values  public  virtue,  who  reveres  the 
religion  of  Christ  and  who  prizes  the  eternal  happi 
ness  of  his  fellow-man.  That  parent  is  lost  to  his 
duty,  and  regardless  of  those  whom  God  has  com 
mitted  to  his  charge,  who  allows  this  history  to  be 
within  reach  of  his  children,  to  corrupt  their  princi 
ples,  poison  their  minds,  and  lay  the  foundation  of 
irreligion  and  guilt,  of  their  misery  and  perdition." 

Professor  Hough  decapitated  the  author,  broke 
him  on  the  wheel,  crucified  him  head  downward,  pul 
verized  him  and  scattered  his  dust  to  the  winds.  I 
know  of  no  other  piece  of  criticism  in  the  language 
more  fierce  and  effective.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  the  author  gave  up  without  a  struggle.  He 
used  every  possible  exertion  to  suppress  the  book,  and 
honestly  believed  that  he  had  committed  every  copy 
of  it  to  the  flames,  including  the  four  or  five  sent  to 
his  friends. 


SANDERS'   INDIAN  WARS.  287 

After  this  book  had  been  on  my  list  of  wants  for 
more  than  twenty  years,  in  the  year  1874  I  was  in 
attendance  upon  the  Circuit  Court  of  the  United 
States,  at  Windsor,  Vt.  Windsor  was  the  residence 
of  Alden  Spooner,  the  brother  and  successor  of  Judah 
Paddock  Spooner,  the  first  Vermont  printer.  While 
waiting  for  my  case,  I  strolled  into  a  book-store  kept 
by  an  elderly  gentleman  named  Merrifield.  In  an 
swer  to  my  inquiries  about  Alden  Spooner,  he  in 
formed  me  that  Spooner  was  his  ancestor,  and  that 
he  now  occupied  the  house  in  which  Spooner  formerly 
resided.  He  gave  me  leave  to  explore  the  garret  of 
his  house.  It  was  neat  and  orderly,  but  literally  filled 
with  the  clothing,  furniture,  and  implements  of  past 
generations.  At  the  very  bottom  of  one  of  the  nu 
merous  barrels  which  it  contained  I  found  a  copy  of 
a  "Treatise  on  Prayer"  by  Nathaniel  Niles,  the 
author  of  the  famous  Sapphic  ode,  beginning, 

"  Why  should  vain  mortals  tremble  at  the  sight  of 
Death  and  destruction  m  the  field  of  battle?" 

and  also,  mirabile  visu,  a  perfect  copy  of  "  Sanders' 
Indian  Wars."  It  was  just  as  it  came  from  the 
press,  except  that  unfortunately  it  was  not  "uncut." 
I  honestly  told  the  old  bookseller  the  story  of  the  book, 
paid  him  a  liberal  price  for  it,  and  became  its  owner. 
But  rare  books  are  like  sorrows,  they  come  "not 
single  spies,  but  in  battalions."  The  story  of  my 
"  find  "  got  into  the  newspapers.  Very  soon  I  began 
to  receive  letters  announcing  the  existence  of  other 
copies .  One  turned  up  in  the  Vermont  State  Library ; 
two  others  in  as  many  different  towns  in  Vermont ; 
so  that,  although  the  author  supposed  every  copy  of 
the  book  was  not  only  suppressed  but  actually  de- 


288  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

stroyed,  not  less  than  six  copies  are  now  known  to 
exist.  I  do  not  know  that  I  ought  to  feel  gratified, 
but  I  believe  all  these  copies  except  my  own  and  one 
other  are  imperfect.  I  must  add  that  the  finding  of 
these  copies  has  lowered  the  value  of  the  first  or  Fisher 
copy,  which  had  sold  for  over  two  hundred  dollars. 
It  has  since  been  sold  at  auction  for  about  one  hun 
dred  dollars.  And  yet,  if  a  perfect  copy  of  "  San 
ders'  Indian  Wars"  were  now  offered  for  sale  at 
public  auction,  there  are  collectors  by  the  score  who 
would  pay  for  it  possibly  the  price  of  the  Fisher  copy 
and  make  a  profitable  investment  by  their  purchase. 

A  LONG  HUNT  FOR  "THE  CONTRAST." 

In  the  early  days  of  my  chase  after  books  "  relat 
ing  to  Vermont,"  I  encountered  many  disappoint 
ments.  Omitting  the  pursuit  of  the  numerous  pam 
phlets  touching  the  controversy  between  New  York 
and  Vermont,  relating  to  the  New  Hampshire  grants, 
which  are  now  worth  more  than  their  weight  in  sil 
ver,  as  shown  by  the  prices  paid  for  them  at  the 
Brinley  sale,  I  will  come  at  once  to  a  legend  which 
has  ripened  into  a  fact,  in  the  history  of  the  Ameri 
can  theatre.  The  legend  was  that  the  first  play 
written  by  an  American  author  ever  represented  upon 
the  American  stage  was  written  by  a  Vermonter, 
named  Royal  Tyler.  He  was  known  to  have  been  a 
lawyer,  a  justice  of  the  Vermont  Supreme  Court,  a 
celebrated  wit,  a  well-known  contributor  to  the 
"Farmers'  Museum,"  published  at  Walpole,  N.  H., 
by  Isaiah  Thomas.  Tyler  had  made  an  accidental 
visit  to  New  York  City,  where  he  had  formed  the 
acquaintance  of  Thomas  Wignell,  a  leading  come 
dian,  who  wished  to  introduce  to  the  stage  the  char- 


A  HUNT  FOR  A  PLAY.  289 

acter  of  Brother  Jonathan.  Judge  Tyler  had  accord 
ingly  written  the  comedy  of  "  The  Contrast, "  in  which 
Brother  Jonathan  was  a  principal  character.  It  had 
been  performed  with  great  eclat  in  New  York,  Phila 
delphia,  Baltimore,  and  Washington,  to  crowded 
houses.  It  was  a  part  of  the  legend  that  the  play, 
under  the  name  of  "  The  Contrast,"  had  been  printed 
and  published  in  New  York  City  about  the  year  1790. 

A  play  with  such  a  history,  written  by  a  Ver- 
monter,  would  be  a  veritable  nugget  in  the  literature 
of  the  Green  Mountain  State.  The  title  stood  at  the 
head  of  my  list  of  "  wants  "  for  almost  twice  fifteen 
years.  But  the  chase  for  it  was  never  hopeful.  No 
copy  of  it  was  ever  discovered,  nor  any  evidence,  ex 
cept  the  legend,  that  it  had  been  printed.  If  it  had 
ever  been  published,  it  must  have  been  in  a  pamphlet 
form.  Pamphlets  are  invariably  short-lived.  The 
respect  which  insures  preservation  cannot  be  secured 
without  covers.  Put  covers  upon  any  pamphlet  and 
it  becomes  a  book,  to  be  protected  against  the  waste- 
basket  and  the  rag-bag ;  it  secures  the  respect  of  the 
housewife  and  the  servant,  those  peripatetic  and  most 
dangerous  enemies  of  the  treasures  of  the  book-col 
lector. 

In  the  chase  for  "The  Contrast,"  I  had  employed 
all  the  recognized  means  of  getting  upon  the  track  of 
a  rare  book.  I  had  patiently  examined  all  the  auc 
tion  and  sale  catalogues  for  years.  I  had  standing 
orders  for  "  The  Contrast "  with  all  the  booksellers. 
I  had  handled  many,  possibly  hundreds  of  cords  of 
the  trash  in  Gowan's  and  other  second-hand  dealers, 
and  the  result  had  been  nil.  Not  only  had  no  copy 
of  the  play  been  discovered,  but  I  had  not  found  a 
particle  of  evidence  that  it  had  ever  been  printed. 
19 


290  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

The  play  could  scarcely  be  a  century  old.  If  printed, 
its  date  could  not  have  been  earlier  than  1790.  Surely 
a  book  of  a  date  so  recent  could  not  have  wholly  ceased 
to  exist.  I  was  finally  forced  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  legend  was  erroneous ;  that  "  The  Contrast"  had 
never  been  printed. 

This  decision  of  mine  was  published  in  some 
newspaper  and  came  to  the  knowledge  of  a  lineal  de 
scendant  of  Judge  Tyler,  a  reputable  citizen  of  Bos 
ton.  To  convince  me  of  my  error,  he  sent  me  one 
printed  leaf  of  the  play,  comprising  pages  45  and  46. 
At  the  top  of  each  page  was  the  title,  "  The  Contrast." 
In  the  dialogue  were  the  characters  "  Brother  Jona 
than  "  and  "  Jenny, "  and  the  former  sang  the  song 
"  Yankee  Doodle. "  These  pages  settled  the  fact  that 
the  play  had  been  printed.  The  printing  was  proved ; 
the  disappearance  of  the  last  printed  copy  I  was  com 
pelled  to  regard  as  impossible  to  be  accounted  for  by 
the  rules  which  commonly  determine  the  life  of  a 
book. 

The  wheels  of  time  rolled  on  to  the  year  1876.  I 
had  given  up  all  hope  of  "  The  Contrast ;"  the  mystery 
continued  unexplained  and  grew  darker  with  age. 
One  cjay  I  received  a  catalogue  entitled  "  Washing- 
toniana,  Books,  rare  plans  and  maps,  a  part  of  the 
library  of  General  George  Washington.  Many  of 
the  books  contain  his  autograph.  To  be  sold  in 
Philadelphia,  on  Tuesday  afternoon,  November  26th, 
1876,  by  Thomas  &  Sons,  auctioneers." 

No.  35  of  this  catalogue  contained  this  title,  "  The 
Contrast — A  Comedy  in  Five  Acts.  Frontispiece, 
8vo,  morocco,  Phila.  1790.  Has  autograph." 

Was  this  the  Contrast  which  I  had  hunted  so  long, 
or  some  other?  It  was  printed  in  Philadelphia,  the 


A  HUNT  FOR  A  PLAY.  291 

genuine  was  supposed  to  have  been  printed  in  New 
York.  Yet  the  date  1790  was  about  correct.  But 
why  was  it  in  the  library  of  General  George  Wash 
ington?  This  was  a  very  suspicious  circumstance, 
after  the  forgery  of  his  motto,  exitus  acta  probat, 
and  his  book-plate,  which  had  imposed  upon  so  many 
collectors.  But  it  was  unsafe  to  attract  attention  to 
the  title  by  correspondence.  Slight  as  the  chance 
was,  I  determined  not  to  lose  it.  I  employed  a  well- 
known  bookseller  and  bibliopole  of  New  York  City 
to  attend  the  sale,  and,  if  this  was  the  genuine  Con 
trast,  to  buy  it  without  limit  of  price.  I  was  very 
confident  that,  after  so  long  a  chase,  the  genuine 
comedy  was  worth  as  much  to  me  as  to  any  other 
collector.  I  also  gave  him  moderate  bids  upon  Num 
bers  101  and  104,  the  folio  volumes  of  maps,  paged 
by  the  hand  of  General  Washington,  and  as  the  cata 
logue  stated,  supposed  to  be  the  maps  used  by  him 
during  the  Revolutionary  War.  These  bids  were 
given  without  any  further  investigation. 

My  order  proved  a  success.  It  secured  the  genuine 
"  Contrast, "  which  was  purchased  for  a  few  dollars, 
and  my  agent  returned  with  it  in  his  possession.  Its 
inspection  showed  that  it  formed  no  exception  to  the 
rule  that  every  published  book  appears  in  commerce 
once  in  fifteen  years ;  for  this  play  had  never  been 
published.  It  was  printed  for  a  list  of  subscribers, 
which  appeared  with  the  comedy.  "  The  President 
of  the  United  States,"  was  the  first  subscriber.  This 
copy  had  been  bound  in  red  and  green  morocco, 
tooled  and  ornamented  in  the  highest  style  of  the 
bibliopegistic  art  of  the  time,  for  General  Washing 
ton,  who  then  filled  the  exalted  position  of  chief  mag 
istrate  of  the  republic.  The  title-page  was  adorned 


292  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

by  his  well-known  autograph.  The  volume  now  lies 
before  me,  perfect  in  every  particular,  with  a  fron 
tispiece  engraved  by  Maverick,  one  of  our  earliest 
engravers  on  metal,  from  a  painting  by  Dunlap,  con 
taining  the  portraits  ad  vivum  of  Wignell  as  Brother 
Jonathan,  Mrs.  Morris  as  Charlotte,  and  three  of  the 
other  principal  characters  in  the  play  as  represented. 
It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  a  volume  possessing 
more  elements  of  attraction  to  a  collector  than  the 
first  play  written  by  an  American,  which  created  the 
stage  character  of  Brother  Jonathan,  was  once  owned 
by  the  Father  of  his  Country,  who  had  written  his 
own  name  upon  the  title,  and  which  was  withal  of 
such  excessive  rarity. 

One  would  suppose  that  a  volume  which  had  so 
long  evaded  the  most  exhaustive  and  comprehensive 
search  would  be  properly  called  unique.  And  yet 
it  was  not.  Collectors  know  that  it  is  a  rule  to  which 
exceptions  seldom  occur,  that  the  discovery  of  one 
very  rare  volume  is  followed  by  the  discovery  of  its 
duplicate.  I  was  not  therefore  much  surprised  when, 
a  few  weeks  after  this  volume  came  into  my  hands, 
I  was  informed  by  that  careful  and  intelligent  col 
lector  of  portraits  of  actors  and  other  material  con 
nected  with  the  stage,  Mr.  Thomas  J.  McKee,  that 
he,  too,  had  just  secured  a  copy  of  "The  Contrast," 
at  the  end  of  a  search  which  for  length  and  thorough 
ness  almost  rivalled  my  own.  He  had  secured  it  by 
the  merest  accident.  A  catalogue  sent  to  him  from 
some  small  English  city,  Bristol,  I  believe,  contained 
its  title  priced  at  a  few  shillings.  He  ordered  it,  and 
in  due  course  of  mail  received  a  copy  of  this  rare  and 
long-hunted  play.  From  his  copy  "The  Contrast" 
has  recently  been  reprinted.  That  copy  and  the  one 


A  HUNT  FOR  A  PLAY.  293 

above  described  are  the  only  copies  so  far  known  of 
the  original  edition. 

The  first  one  hundred  and  thirty-eight  numbers  in 
the  catalogue  of  the  Philadelphia  sale  were  books 
which  unquestionably  once  formed  a  portion  of  the 
library  of  General  Washington.  Many  of  them  con 
tained  notes  in  the  careful  chirography  of  their  illus 
trious  owner,  in  addition  to  his  autograph.  They 
had  passed  to  a  relative  under  the  provisions  of  his 
will,  whose  descendant,  the  last  owner  of  the  collec 
tion,  had  been  impoverished  by  the  war,  and  com 
pelled  by  his  necessities  to  sell  them.  The  larger 
folio  of  maps  bears  evidence  of  the  regular,  methodi 
cal,  business  habits  of  its  former  owner.  It  comprises 
over  one  hundred  maps  of  North  America  and  the 
West  India  Islands,  with  detailed  plans  of  the  de 
fences  of  the  principal  cities.  There  are  also  many 
plans  of  battles,  sieges,  etc.,  four  of  Braddock's  de 
feat,  for  example.  Each  of  these  was  issued  sepa 
rately.  To  arrange  them  in  their  proper  order  for 
binding,  was  a  work  which  required  historical  and 
geographical  knowledge.  It  had  been  most  carefully 
done  by  General  Washington  himself.  He  had  paged 
every  map  in  figures  a  half-inch  in  length  so  care 
fully  outlined  and  then  filled  in  with  ink,  that  every 
figure  appeared  to  have  been  engraved.  Some  of 
these  maps  are  of  great  historical  interest.  No.  22, 
for  instance,  a  map  of  the  Province  of  New  Hamp 
shire,  published  as  early  as  1762,  would  have  been 
very  powerful,  perhaps  conclusive  evidence,  that  in 
the  controversy  with  New  York  concerning  the  New 
Hampshire  grants,  the  right  of  the  case  was  with 
the  province  last  named.  It  extends  the  western  boun 
dary  line  of  New  Hampshire  to  Lake  Champlain,  in- 


294  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

stead  of  restricting  it  to  the  west  bank  of  Connecticut 
River,  as  claimed  by  New  York.  According  to  this 
map,  the  governor  of  New  Hampshire  had  the  ex 
clusive  right  to  make  grants  of  land  within  what  are 
now  the  limits  of  Vermont,  and  New  York  had  no 
jurisdiction  over  it.  The  crown  officers  would  have 
been  bound  by  it,  since  it  was  prepared  for  the  use 
of  the  war  department  and  dedicated  to  Charles 
Townsend,  at  that  time  the  British  secretary  of 
war. 

My  agent  represented  to  me  that  a  gentleman  who 
was  then  collecting  "  Washingtoniana  "  very  much 
desired  to  possess  the  smaller  collection  of  maps,  cata 
logued  as  No.  104,  and  as  I  had  secured  the  three 
"  nuggets  "  of  the  sale,  pressed  me  to  permit  this  pur 
chase  to  be  transferred  to  his  customer.  To  this  I 
consented.  The  two  folios  were  delivered  to  the 
agent,  who  sent  the  smaller  to  the  collector.  Not  long 
afterward,  the  agent  advertised  for  sale  one  of  the 
most  interesting  memorials  of  Washington  which 
existed.  It  was  a  detailed  plan  of  the  Mount  Ver- 
non  estate,  showing  its  division  into  large  lots,  the 
portions  under  cultivation,  the  forests,  the  residence 
and  grounds,  its  location  on  the  river,  its  gardens 
and  orchards,  meadows,  pastures,  fields,  etc.  The 
dimensions  of  each  field  and  its  area  were  given,  and 
each  of  its  qualities  was  described.  The  survey  was 
made  and  the  plan  drawn  by  Washington,  who  was 
a  practical  surveyor,  and  the  descriptions  were  writ 
ten  by  his  own  hand.  The  price  demanded  was  two 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  which  was  readily  obtained. 
I  was  assured  by  the  agent  that  this  plan  was  found 
in  the  smaller  folio  which  I  had  given  up  to  his  cus 
tomer.  But  it  was  a  little  remarkable  that  its  folds 


WASHINGTONIANA.  295 

should  have  exactly  corresponded  with  the  dimensions 
of  the  larger  folio  which  I  have  described,  and  not  at 
all  with  the  smaller  which  I  had  surrendered.  This 
fact  was  one  of  those  little  things  which  have  no  ex 
planation.  I  mention  it  to  show  that  the  experiences 
of  the  book  chase  are  not  all  pleasures,  but  like  the 
pursuit  of  larger  game  they  are  tempered  by  annoy 
ances  and  disappointments. 

Turning  now  from  the  unavailing  search  for  "  uni- 
quities  "  which  do  not  exist  to  iniquities  which  do, 
the  conclusion  of  my  experience  as  a  collector  is,  never 
to  purchase  a  rare  book  or  print  from  a  stranger. 
The  collector  will  profit  in  the  end  who  makes  all  his 
purchases  through  one  of  the  reputable,  established 
houses  in  the  trade.  These  houses  have  an  interest 
in  dealing  honorably  with  collectors  and  in  protect 
ing  them  from  frauds  and  annoyances. 

If  a  rare  book  or  engraving  is  offered  by  a  stranger 
it  is  safe  to  assume  that  there  is  some  iniquity  con 
nected  with  it.  Theft  is  the  most  common.  Al 
though  no  one  can  say  why,  it  is  still  the  fact  that 
many  frequenters  of  libraries  and  book-stores  will 
carry  away  a  rare  volume  or  picture  who  would  be 
horrified  at  the  thought  that  they  were  thieves.  It 
is  not  many  years  ago,  when  the  fever  for  "  Wash- 
ingtoniana  "  was  at  its  height,  that  the  autograph  let 
ter  written  by  General  Washington  to  the  Common 
Council  of  New  York  City,  acknowledging  the  re 
ceipt  of  "  the  freedom  of  the  city,  in  a  gold  box, "  ap 
peared  in  the  catalogue  of  an  auction  sale  of  books 
and  autographs.  This  letter  was  a  public  document 
of  the  city.  It  could  no  more  be  sold  or  given  away 
by  authority  than  a  volume  of  the  public  records. 
Yet  it  produced  a  fierce  competition  at  the  sale 


296  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

among  a  number  of  collectors,  to  one  of  whom  it 
was  struck  off  for  twenty-five  hundred  dollars.  The 
buyer  bought  the  experience  he  deserved.  He  was 
sued  in  replevin  by  the  city  and  compelled  to  sur 
render  the  letter.  I  believe  he  afterward  recovered 
his  money  from  the  executor  of  the  seller.  He  de 
served  to  lose  it,  for  it  must  have  been  as  well  known 
to  every  one  connected  with  the  sale  that  this  letter 
was  stolen  property,  as  if  it  had  been  inscribed 
"stolen  from  the  city." 

In  the  following  instance  I  volunteered  to  act  in 
the  interest  of  the  owner.  I  shall  not  be  much  sur 
prised  if  the  publication  of  this  article  enables  him 
to  recover  his  property. 

Some  years  ago  a  fresco  painter  of  foreign  birth 
was  sent  by  his  employer  to  do  some  work  on  the  ceil 
ing  of  my  library.  There  were  a  few  early  etchings 
by  Durer  and  Marc  Antonio  on  the  walls,  with  which 
the  painter  appeared  to  be  singularly  familiar.  After 
mentioning  some  marks,  not  generally  known,  by 
which  experienced  collectors  identify  a  print  with 
the  different  stages  of  the  plate,  he  observed  that  he 
had  a  portfolio  of  early  etchings  and  original  draw 
ings  which  might  interest  me.  Upon  inquiring  what 
they  were,  he  made  the  apparently  extravagant  reply 
that  the  portfolio  comprised  original  drawings  by 
Martin  Schoen,  Durer,  Cranach,  Burgmaier,  Marc 
Antonio,  Raphael,  Michael  Angelo,  Mantegna,  and 
others  of  the  early  German  and  Italian  schools,  with 
early  etchings  of  many  of  them.  In  answer  to  strong 
expressions  of  my  incredulity,  he  said  with  some 
spirit  that  he  knew  an  original  from  a  copy ;  that  the 
portfolio  was  at  his  home,  a  certain  number  in 
Bleecker  Street,  where,  if  I  would  call,  his  wife  would 


A  STORY  OF  EARLY  DRAWINGS.  29? 

show  me  the  drawings  and  prints  and  I  could  satisfy 
myself  of  their  authenticity. 

I  passed  the  place  daily  and  could  make  the  ex 
amination  without  inconvenience,  or  I  should  not 
have  regarded  the  prospect  of  results  as  worth  the 
trouble.  I  had  not  the  slightest  expectation  of  see 
ing  one  original  he  had  named.  I  made  the  appoint 
ment  and  kept  it.  I  found  on  the  first  floor'  a  very 
small  shop  kept  by  the  painter's  wife,  in  which  there 
was  a  stock  of  toys,  cheap  stationery,  and  newspapers, 
the  whole  value  of  which  could  not  have  amounted 
to  two  hundred  dollars.  They  lived  over  the  shop  in 
two  rooms  cheaply  furnished.  I  was  taken  to  one  of 
these  lay  the  painter,  who  unlocked  a  long,  wide,  but 
thin  wooden  box,  and  took  from  it  a  thick  portfolio 
large  enough  for  Marc  Antonio's  Massacre  of  the  In 
nocents.  Opening  this  he  took  from  it  and  laid  on 
the  table  and  floor  before  my  astonished  eyes  a  most 
surprising  collection. 

It  consisted  of  etchings,  engravings,  and  drawings 
in  pencil,  ink,  and  sepia,  by  all  the  masters  he  had 
named  and  some  others.  They  possessed  every  in 
dication  of  genuineness.  Some  of  the  drawings  were 
sketches  for  a  larger  work,  others  were  half  completed. 

Two  sketches  I  recognized  as  portions  of  M.  An- 
gelo's  famous  fresco  of  "  Roman  Soldiers  Attacked 
while  Bathing, "  conceded  by  Da  Vinci  to  have  been 
superior  to  his  "Fight  for  the  Standards."  There 
were  several  by  Raphael,  some  unmistakable  An 
drea  Mantegna's,  there  were  Durers,  Cranachs,  and 
Van  Ley  dens.  Of  etchings  there  was  a  superb  im 
pression  of  Marc  Antonio's  "  Massacre"  with  the  fir 
tree ;  a  fine  copy  of  "  The  Crucifixion,  "  the  master 
piece  of  Lucas  van  Leyden ;  specimens  of  the  "  little 


298  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

masters  "  by  the  score.  Without  farther  enumeration 
I  may  say  generally  that  I  thought  then,  and  still 
believe,  that  the  contents  of  that  portfolio  would  have 
netted  more  than  two  thousand  dollars  at  auction. 

"Where  did  you  get  this  collection?"  I  asked. 

He  answered  without  hesitation  or  confusion,  that 
his  father  and  grandfather  had  been  fresco-painters 
like  himself  in  Germany ;  that  love  of  the  arts  was 
hereditary  in  his  family ;  that  his  ancestors  had  been 
employed  to  repair  many  of  the  old  monasteries  on 
the  walls  of  which  many  of  these  drawings  and  prints 
had  been  pasted ;  that  the  monks  did  not  care  for  them 
and  had  given  them  to  his  father  and  grandfather, 
who  had  removed  them  with  great  care.  He  showed 
indications  on  some  of  the  drawings  that  they  had 
been  so  detached.  In  this  way  during  three  gener 
ations  the  collection  had  been  made. 

"  But, "  I  said,  "  here  is  a  drawing  by  Rosa  Bonheur, 
here  are  others  by  living  English  artists,  which  could 
have  scarcely  found  their  way  on  to  the  wall  of  ancient 
monasteries !" 

These  he  said  he  had  obtained  by  exchange  with  a 
collector  in  Belgium  whose  name  he  gave.  He  bore 
a  sharp  cross-examination  well ;  he  was  prepared  with 
a  ready  answer  for  every  question.  His  familiarity 
with  the  history  of  engravers  and  of  valuable  prints 
rendered  his  answers  appropriate.  He  pointed  out 
several  marks  of  identification  of  Durer's  and  Martin 
Schoen's  which  were  new  to  me,  and  which  I  have 
not  met  with  in  any  book ;  he  knew  more  about  some 
of  the  prints  than  I  did,  and  I  claim  to  be  able  to 
identify  a  genuine  Durer  by  a  very  brief  inspection. 

At  the  close  of  the  examination  I  selected  four 
pieces :  A  head  of  Wohlgemuth  in  pencil  with  Du- 


A  STORY  OF  EARLY  DRAWINGS.  299 

rer's  monogram  and  the  date  1489,  on  the  back  of 
which  was  written  in  German  the  words  "  Portrait 
of  M.  Wohlgemuth,  my  art  teacher.  A.  Duerer." 
This  date  I  remembered  was  during  the  three  years 
of  Durer's  apprenticeship  to  Wohlgemuth;  the  paper 
was  hand-made,  old,  and  bore  the  watermark  of  the 
elephant's  head.  The  second  was  a  pen  drawing,  half 
length,  of  Charles  the  Fifth  by  Cranach.  It  had  no 
inscription,  but  there  was  no  more  mistaking  the  pro 
jecting  chin  and  heavy  jaws  of  the  German  ruler 
than  the  double  shields  and  flying  dragon  of  the  ar 
tist.  The  easy  grace  of  the  lines  of  this  drawing  was 
marvellous,  surpassing  anything  in  Durer's  illustra 
tions  of  the  Prayer- Book.  The  third  was  the  head  of 
a  monk  in  crayon,  marked  "H.  B.,  1520."  I  was 
in  some  doubt  about  this,  but  it  strongly  resembled 
the  work  of  Burgmaier.  The  fourth  was  a  drawing 
of  two  young  cattle  in  India  ink,  one  animal  standing, 
the  other  lying  down.  It  bore  no  mark  or  monogram, 
but  the  lovely  expression  of  the  face  and  eyes  of  the 
female,  and  the  splendid  vigor  of  the  male,  unmis 
takably  declared  it  to  be  the  inimitable  work  of  Rosa 
Bonheur.  I  had  not  the  slightest  doubt  of  the  genu 
ineness  of  either,  except  the  one  by  Burgmaier.  When 
I  asked  him  how  much  money  he  wanted  for  the  four 
pieces  he  turned  toward  me  a  face  if  not  "  like  Ni- 
obe,  all  tears,"  it  was  at  least  equal  to  hers,  in  the 
grief  of  its  expression.  "  Sell  them !"  What  could 
have  led  me  to  imagine  that  he  would  sell  them? 
They  were  an  inheritance  from  a  loved  father  ?  the 
light  of  his  eyes,  the  joy  of  his  life.  Such  priceless 
treasures  were  not  for  money.  He  would  as  soon 
sell  his  wife. 

I  restored  the  drawings  to  the  portfolio  and  took 


300   '  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

my  leave,  reflecting  that  here  was  a  novel  and  extra 
ordinary  experience  in  the  chase  for  prints.  A  jour 
neyman  painter,  working  for  day  wages,  living  in 
poverty  over  a  small  mean  shop,  with  a  collection  of 
prints  and  drawings  in  his  possession  which  could 
not  be  rivalled  on  the  continent,  which  were  worth 
thousands  of  dollars,  and  yet  who  would  not  part  with 
one  of  them  for  money.  Was  this  the  expression  of 
artistic  love,  or  was  it  fear?  My  diagnosis  was  that 
this  collection  was  associated  with  something  undis 
closed,  probably  with  a  crime. 

For  more  than  a  year  I  heard  nothing  of  this 
unique  proprietor  of  artistic  treasures.  One  evening 
toward  the  close  of  the  year,  a  certain  24th  of  Decem 
ber,  my  door-bell  was  rung  and  I  was  informed  that 
a  man  wished  to  see  me  who  declined  to  give  his 
name  and  for  that  reason  was  left  standing  in  the 
hall.  The  gas  was  not  yet  lighted  and  in  the  gloom 
of  approaching  darkness  I  did  not  recognize  him,  but 
when  he  spoke  I  knew  it  was  the  fresco  painter.  He 
said  he  had  brought  something  to  show  me.  I  in 
vited  him  into  a  lighted  room,  where  he  laid  a  port 
folio  on  the  table,  opened,  took  from  it  and  spread  out 
the  four  drawings  I  had  selected,  in  the  same  condi 
tion  as  when  I  last  saw  them.  He  positively  repre 
sented  "the  knight  of  the  rueful  countenance,"  as 
he  told  me  of  his  errand.  He  had  been  working  and 
saving  for  years,  that  he  might  at  the  coming  Christ 
mas  make  his  wife  a  present  of  a  savings-bank  book 
with,  a  certain  sum  to  her  credit.  He  could  not  quite 
make  up  the  sum  upon  which  he  had  set  his  heart. 
What  should  he  do?  Fail  of  his  present  or  part  with 
some  of  his  heart  treasures?  Here  was  a  divided 
duty,  but  rather  than  disappoint  a  faithful  and  hard- 


DEALING  WITH  A  FRAUD.  301 

working  wife  he  had  decided  to  part  with  these 
drawings  to  one  who  would  appreciate  and  preserve 
them.  He  had  therefore  brought  them  to  me;  he 
could  not  bargain  about  them.  I  could  have  them  at 
my  own  price. 

I  mentally  summed  up  the  situation  and  the  fel 
low's  character  thus:  He  was  a  first-class  fraud;  his 
whole  story  was  false.  He  was  selling  stolen  prop 
erty,  probably  rifled  from  some  foreign  collection. 
Should  I  call  a  servant  and  order  him  kicked  into 
the  street ;  or  should  I  offer  him  a  small  sum  which 
the  owner  would  willingly  pay  to  redeem  his  prop 
erty  if  he  ever  appeared? 

I  decided  upon  the  latter  course.  I  offered  a  sum 
so  insignificant  that  I  will  not  name  it.  He  remon 
strated  like  "Oliver  asking  for  more,"  but  I  was 
flinty-hearted,  although  the  sorrow  of  his  parting  from 
his  treasures  was  almost  enough  to  excite  my  com 
passion.  But  he  took  his  money,  left  his  drawings, 
and  tore  himself  away. 

Then  the  purchaser  of  the  stolen  goods  had  a  short 
season  of  self-communion.  Was  he  quite  sure  that 
he  had  not  himself  been  sold?  It  would  not  be  in 
teresting  to  discover  that  the  drawings  themselves 
were  frauds.  He  gave  them  a  searching  investiga 
tion,  and,  while  every  indication  favored  their  genu 
ineness,  he  placed  them  in  a  drawer,  never  to  be 
shown  until  some  unchallenged  authority  had  at 
tested  their  authenticity. 

Before  the  new  year,  the  police  reports  one  morning 
disclosed  a  true  case  of  desertion  and  destitution.  A 
fellow  whose  wife  had  supported  both,  by  keeping  a 
small  shop,  while  she  lay  sick  in  bed  had  sold  out  the 
shop,  taken  every  cent  of  money  from  the  clothing 


302  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

of  his  sick  wife  while  she  was  sleeping,  abandoned 
her  in  utter  poverty,  and  absconded  with  a  woman 
of  no  doubtful  character,  leaving  his  own  creditors 
in  the  lurch.  The  wife  had  no  relatives,  for  they 
were  foreigners.  She  was  starving.  They  lived  at 
No.  —  Bleecker  Street,  and  the  name  of  the  rascal 

was that  of  my  fresco  painter. 

The  wife  was  assisted  by  a  small  sum  which  the 
owner  will  have  to  pay  if  he  redeems  his  property, 
and  on  my  next  visit  to  Paris  the  drawings  were  ex- 
bited  to  the  experts  in  old  drawings  at  the  Louvre, 
who  pronounced  them  all  genuine.  Rosa  Bonheur 
solved  all  doubts  of  the  drawing  attributed  to  her  by 
writing  her  artist  autograph  on  its  margin.  The 
drawings  were  then  framed  and  have  ever  since 
awaited  the  coming  of  their  owners.  As  the  leap 
of  the  boy  from  the  sixth-story  window  uninjured 
was  proved  because  the  window  "  was  still  there !" 
so  it  may  be  said  to  any  who  question  the  foregoing 
account,  "  It  is  certainly  true,  for  the  drawings  are 
there  to  prove  it," 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

SOME  MEN  WHOM  I  KNEW  IN  WASHINGTON 
DURING  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

JAMES  S.  WADSWORTH. 

IN  an  old  note-book  of  1864  I  recently  found  this 
dispatch  from  Acquia  Creek  in  May,  1864,  the  day  of 
the  month  omitted : 

"  Wads  worth  fell  yesterday.  He  is  in  the  hands  of 
the  enemy,  either  dead  or  mortally  wounded." 

I  remember  now  the  sharp  pang  of  sorrow  that 
went  through  my  heart  when  this  dispatch  was  laid 
on  my  table;  for  James  S.  Wads  worth  was  a  lova 
ble  man,  my  model  of  the  very  best  type  of  the  citi 
zen  of  a  free  republic.  I  first  knew  him  in  the  Peace 
Conference.  He  was  then  in  the  prime  of  life,  with 
a  magnificent  physique,  an  open,  frank  face,  a 
kind  heart,  and  a  fearless  soul.  After  our  call  upon 
President  Buchanan,  he  regarded  our  mission  in  the 
Conference  as  ended.  He  said  to  James  A.  Seddon, 
of  Virginia :  "  Why  do  you  persist  in  your  attempt 
to  deceive  the  North?  You  secessionists  mean  fight ! 
You  will  keep  right  on  with  your  treasonable  schemes 
until  you  either  whip  us  or  we  discipline  you.  I  shall 
stay  here  until  Congress  adjourns  on  the  3d  of  March, 
because  I  cannot  honorably  resign  from  the  Confer 
ence.  Then  I  shall  go  home  and  help  my  people  to 
get  ready  for  the  war  in  which  you  slaveholders  in 
tend  to  involve  the  republic !" 

303 


304  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

After  the  Conference  I  heard  no  more  of  Wads- 
worth  until,  among  the  first  of  the  seventy-five  thou 
sand,  he  appeared  in  Washington  with  a  full  regi 
ment  of  his  neighbors  from  the  Genesee  Valley. 
They  came  so  promptly,  it  was  said,  because  they 
were  armed  and  clothed  by  Wadsworth  himself.  I 
met  him  frequently  afterward,  always  busy  in  caring 
for  his  regiment.  He  was  appointed  military  gov 
ernor  of  the  District.  One  day  in  November  he  called 
at  the  Register's  office  on  business.  He  wore  the 
common  soldier's  blue  overcoat  and  cap;  his  heavy 
boots,  worn  outside  of  his  trousers,  had  a  rich  cover 
ing  of  red  Virginia  mud,  and  no  one  would  have  sus 
pected  that  he  was  the  owner  of  half  a  county  of  the 
fertile  lands  of  the  Genesee  Valley.  He  invited  me 
to  dine  with  him.  He  said  the  carriage  road  to  the 
governor's  residence  was  slightly  out  of  repair,  and 
he  would  send  saddle-horses  for  myself  and  a  few  other 
guests.  I  accepted  the  invitation. 

On  the  day  appointed  the  horses  came  with  two 
orderlies.  They  were  splendid  animals  or  they  could 
not  have  carried  us  through  that  bottomless  mud  from 
the  end  of  the  Long  Bridge  to  our  destination.  The 
governor's  residence  was  just  such  a  tent  as  ten  thou 
sand  soldiers  in  the  same  camp  were  provided  with, 
only  it  was  of  a  larger  size.  Our  dinner  had  just  the 
same  material  and  number  of  courses  as  the  dinner 
of  these  soldiers.  Even  the  moderate  quantity  of  ex 
cellent  "  old  Jamaica  "  on  our  table  was  furnished  to 
any  soldier  who  really  needed  it.  I  have  eaten  many 
dinners  and  been  made  very  miserable  by  some  of 
them,  but  the  experiences  and  memories  of  that 
one  were  and  still  are  delightful.  It  was  not  dif 
ficult  to  understand  why  Wadsworth  (he  was  then 


JAMES  S.  WADS  WORTH.  305 

a  brigadier)  was  living  among  and  upon  the  same 
fare  as  his  soldiers.  No  Scotch  retainers  better 
loved  their  chieftain  than  these  men  loved  their  gen 
eral,  and  they  proved  their  affection  afterward  in  the 
bloody  Wilderness. 

It  was  after  dark  in  that  November  night  when 
we  returned  to  Washington.  Our  host  persisted  in 
escorting  us  home,  where  we  arrived  without  acci 
dent.  A  civil  officer  of  high  rank,  a  member  of  our 
party,  insisted  that  we  should  call  at  his  residence. 
We  did  so,  and  there  we  drank  a  loving-cup  with 
the  man  we  called  the  "  Prince  of  Genesee." 

I  saw  him  only  once  more.  I  will  not  describe  the 
interview,  for  I  do  not  wish  to  revive  unpleasant  mem 
ories.  It  was  in  my  own  private  office,  when  he  was 
furious  with  indignation  because  he  believed  ten  thou 
sand  loyal  men  and  true  had  been  sacrificed  to  inordi 
nate  vanity  and  professional  jealousy,  an  opinion 
then  generally  entertained,  which  some  afterward 
changed,  but  which  I  shall  carry  to  my  grave. 

I  loved  James  S.  Wadsworth.  Here  is  what  I 
wrote  of  him  when  he  fell  in  May,  1864:  "In  the 
Peace  Conference  or  in  the  world  there  was  never  a 
purer  or  a  more  unselfish  patriot.  Those  of  us  who 
were  associated  with  him  politically  had  learned  to 
love  and  respect  him.  His  adversaries  admired  his 
unflinching  devotion  to  his  country  and  his  manly 
frankness  and  candor.  He  was  the  type  of  a  true 
American,  able,  unselfish,  prudent,  unambitious,  and 
good.  Other  pens  will  do  justice  to  his  memory,  but 
I  thought  as  I  heard  the  last  account  of  him  alive, 
as  he  lay  within  the  rebel  lines,  his  face  wearing  that 
serenity  which  grew  more  beautiful  the  nearer  death 
approached,  that  the  good  and  true  men  of  the  na- 
30 


306  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

tion  would  prize  their  government  more  highly  when 
they  remembered  that  it  could  only  be  maintained  by 
such  sacrifices." 

MAJOR  DANIEL  McCOOK. 

"  Come  and  take  a  walk  with  me, "  said  Secretary 
Chase,  one  May  afternoon,  after  our  dinner  at  the 
Rugby  House,  where  we  both  then  lived.  "The 
First  Regiment  of  Ohio  Volunteers  is  in  camp 
on  Fourteenth  Street,  and  I  am  going  out  to  see 
them."  I  accepted  his  invitation.  We  reached  the 
camp  just  as  the  evening  parade  was  going  on. 
When  it  was  over  their  colonel  made  a  short  military 
speech  to  the  regiment,  in  which  he  told  them  very 
plainly  the  purpose  for  which  they  had  entered  the 
service  of  their  country  and  what  they  must  do  to 
qualify  themselves  for  that  service.  The  speech 
made  a  profound  impression  on  my  mind,  for  it  was 
my  first  instruction  in  the  art  and  purpose  of  war 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  soldier. 

Governor  Chase  was  then  invited  to  say  a  few 
words  to  the  regiment.  He  declined  to  destroy  the 
influence  of  the  excellent  speech  of  the  colonel  by  any 
observations,  but  said  that  after  the  regiment  was 
dismissed  he  would  like  to  take  every  man  by  the 
hand,  and  he  did  so.  We  were  then  introduced  to 
the  officers.  The  officer  in  command  was  Colonel 
now  Major- General,  Alexander  McDowell  McCook. 

A  few  days  afterward,  in  his  own  office,  Secretary 
Chase  introduced  me  to  a  citizen  of  Ohio  whose 
name  he  said  was  Major  Daniel  McCook,  the  father 
of  the  colonel  of  the  First  Ohio  Regiment.  The 
Secretary  was  not  in  a  good  frame  of  mind  that  morn 
ing.  In  fact,  it  was  the  only  time  I  remember  ever 


MAJOR  DANIEL  McCOOK.  307 

to  have  seen  him  when  his  temper  appeared  to  have 
escaped  the  control  of  his  judgment.  He  had  just 
been  describing  how  some  Ohio  regiments  under 
the  command  of  General  Schenck,  on  a  reconnoi 
tring  expedition  to  Vienna,  Va. ,  had  been  fired  upon 
by  the  rebels  from  a  masked  battery,  five  men  killed, 
and  a  number  wounded  and  missing.  The  Secretary 
held  in  his  hand  a  six-pound  shot.  His  tall  frame 
shook  with  indignation  as  he  exclaimed,  "There! 
there  is  a  cannon-ball  actually  fired  from  a  rebel  can 
non  upon  an  Ohio  regiment  bearing  the  flag  of  their 
country !"  We  soon  became  so  much  accustomed  to 
battles  that  a  skirmish  like  that  at  Vienna  did  not 
attract  much  attention,  and  I  did  not  hear  the  term 
"  masked  battery"  again  used  during  the  war. 

I  invited  Major  McCook  to  my  office,  and  he  often 
called  there  afterward.  He  was  a  tall,  erect,  fine- 
looking  man,  who  said  he  "  had  some  boys  who  were 
going  into  the  service,  at  all  events  such  of  them  as 
were  old  enough . "  He  was  sixty-three  years  old — too 
old  to  get  into  the  service  in  the  regular  way,  but  as 
he  was  in  good  health  and  felt  as  young  as  ever,  he 
had  come  on  to  Washington  to  "  see  what  Uncle  Abe 
and  the  governor  [Chase]  could  do  for  him."  He 
said  that  he  "  could  work  in  the  commissary  or  the 
quartermaster's  departments  or  in  the  hospitals.  Any 
way,  he  could  not  stay  at  home  when  the  country 
wanted  men.  He  wanted  to  do  something  for  the 
country." 

Daniel  McCook  did  do  something  for  the  country. 
In  the  retreat  from  the  first  Bull  Run  he  was  taking 
care  of  the  wounded  as  a  volunteer  nurse.  Charles 
Morris,  his  youngest  son  save  one,  a  boy  of  eighteen, 
a  private  in  the  First  Ohio,  was  with  his  regiment 


308  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

covering  the  retreat  of  the  army.  Passing  a  field 
hospital,  he  stopped  to  assist  his  father  with  the 
wounded  while  his  regiment  marched  on.  He  was 
surrounded  by  rebel  cavalry.  He  disabled  the  officer 
in  command  and  with  his  musket  and  bayonet  kept 
the  others  at  bay.  In  answer  to  his  father's  call  to 
surrender  to  such  inevitable  odds,  he  replied  that  he 
would  never  surrender  to  a  rebel !  They  shot  him 
dead  before  his  father's  eyes. 

Latimer  A.,  the  eldest  son  of  Major  Daniel  Mc- 
Cook,  served  as  a  surgeon  with  John  A.  Logan's  regi 
ment.  He  was  in  the  Western  army,  was  wounded 
before  Vicksburg,  marched  to  the  sea,  was  again 
wounded  at  Pocotaligo  Bridge,  and  died  a  few  years 
after  the  war  of  his  wounds  and  exposure. 

George  W.,  the  second  son,  served  and  lost  his 
health  in  the  war  with  Mexico.  He  studied  law 
with  Edwin  M.  Stanton,  was  attorney-general  of 
Ohio,  a  brigadier-general  in  the  War  of  the  Rebellion, 
an  efficient  organizer  of  Ohio  troops,  but  on  account 
of  infirm  health  was  unable  to  take  the  field. 

John  J.  McCook,  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  in  1842 
died  a  midshipman  in  the  naval  service  of  his 
country,  of  a  fever,  off  the  coast  of  South  America. 

Robert  L.  McCook,  the  fourth  son,  by  brilliant 
service  rose  to  the  command  of  a  division  as  major- 
general  in  1862.  He  was  foully  murdered  by  gueril 
las  near  Salem,  in  Alabama,  while  following  his  di 
vision  in  an  ambulance,  in  which  he  lay  prostrated 
by  dysentery  and  a  severe  wound. 

Alexander  McDowell  McCook  served  with  dis 
tinction  throughout  the  war,  in  which  he  rose  to  the 
rank  of  major-general.  He  is  now  a  major-general 
in  the  regular  army. 


MAJOR  DANIEL  McCOOK.  309 

Daniel  McCook,  Junior,  the  sixth  son,  was  colonel 
of  the  Fifty-second  Ohio ;  commander  of  a  brigade  in 
Sheridan's  division;  led  the  assault  on  Kenesaw 
Mountain,  where  he  was  mortally  wounded.  He 
was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  general  of  brigade  for 
gallant  service,  and  died  in  July,  1864,  at  the  age  of 
thirty  years. 

Edwin  8.  Me  Cook,  the  seventh  son,  educated  at 
Annapolis;  captain  in  Logan's  Thirty-first  Illinois; 
with  Logan  through  the  Chattanooga  and  Atlanta 
campaigns,  and  to  the  sea ;  three  times  wounded ;  a 
brigadier  and  brevet  major-general;  survived  the 
war;  was  acting  governor  of  Dakota,  where,  while 
presiding  at  a  public  meeting,  he  was  slain  by  an 
assassin. 

As  already  stated,  Charles  Morris,  the  eighth  son, 
was  killed  at  Bull  Run.  John  J.  Me  Cook,  the  ninth 
son,  when  the  bolt  of  treason  fell  was  sixteen  years 
old.  He  enlisted  in  the  Sixth  Ohio  cavalry;  first 
lieutenant  on  the  staff  of  General  Crittenden  in  Sep 
tember,  1862;  served  through  the  campaigns  in  the 
West  and  with  Grant  in  the  last  Potomac  campaign ; 
captain  in  1863;  was  promoted  to  lieu  tenant -colonel 
for  gallant  service.  He  is  now  a  lawyer  in  New 
York  City,  where  in  the  autumn  of  1892  he  led  the 
charge  of  the  Presbyterians  against  Professor  Briggs 
and  the  New  York  Seminary.  John  •  J.  and  Alex 
ander  are  the  only  survivors  of  the  family. 

Major  Daniel  Me  Cook,  the  father  of  this  extra 
ordinary  family,  was  mortally  wounded  in  a  fight 
with  the  rebel  General  John  Morgan,  on  his  raid 
into  Ohio,  in  July,  1863.  His  wife,  the  mother  of 
these  boys,  was  Martha  Latimer,  daughter  of  Abra 
ham  Latimer,  of  Washington,  Pa. 


310  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

GUSTAVUS    VASA    FOX. 

Captain  G.  V.  Fox  had  a  good  head  and  a  mathe 
matical  brain,  which  he  put  to  excellent  practical  uses, 
on  a  short,  compact  figure.  He  had  been  an  officer  in 
the  navy  and  captain  of  a  Pacific  Mail  steamer,  and 
in  1861  was  the  business  manager  of  a  large  factory 
in  New  England.  He  was  connected  by  marriage 
with  Secretary  Montgomery  Blair,  and  first  attracted 
the  notice  of  the  President  by  his  common-sense  views 
on  the  subject  of  the  reinforcement  of  Fort  Sumter, 
which  were  contrary  to  those  of  the  Navy  Department. 
It  was  too  late  to  make  the  trial.  But  the  President 
made  him  an  Assistant  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  where 
his  influence  was  excellent  throughout  the  war. 

Captain  Fox  was  highly  esteemed  and  freely  con 
sulted  by  the  President,  I  think  because  of  his  strong 
common  sense  and  freedom  from  prejudice.  He 
never  expressed  an  opinion,  or,  as  I  should  better  say, 
he  never  formed  an  opinion  upon  a  subject  until  he 
had  reduced  it  to  the  form  of  a  mathematical  propo 
sition  and,  so  far  as  practicable,  proved  all  its  details. 
Then  he  had  an  opinion  and  he  was  able  to  impart  it 
to  others.  But  for  Captain  Fox  the  Monitor  would 
certainly  not  have  been  built  in  time  for  the  fight 
with  the  Merrimac,  and  every  one  may  imagine  for 
himself  what  the  consequences  would  have  been  had 
the  Merrimac  dropped  anchor  at  the  Long  Bridge 
and  thrown  her  shells  irrto  the  Capitol,  the  Executive 
Mansion,  and  the  Treasury,  firing  at  will.  I  saw 
the  captain  frequently  while  he  was  engaged  upon 
the  subject  and  in  almost  daily  consultation  with  the 
President.  Once  he  said :  "  The  proposition  cannot  be 
formulated.  I  can  demonstrate  many  of  its  elements. 


GUSTAVUS  VASA  FOX.  311 

The  vessel  can  be  constructed ;  there  is  no  difficulty 
about  her  stability  or  her  steering.  The  principle  of 
the  raft  is  all  right.  But  how  she  will  behave  in 
action  pounded  by  hundred-pound  shells  nobody  can 
tell.  It  is  an  experiment  and  nothing  but  an  experi 
ment.  But  I  think  it  should  be  tried  unless  some  one 
can  point  out  defects  in  the  plans  of  Captain  Ericsson 
which  I  cannot  discover." 

The  strong  will  of  Abraham  Lincoln  had  to  be  ex 
erted — it  was  exerted,  and  the  experiment  was  tried 
under  the  very  eye  of  Captain  Fox.  When  he  re 
turned  from  the  scene  of  the  conflict  he  seemed  to 
be  a  changed  man.  He  knew  about  when  the  battle 
would  take  place,  and  he  left  Washington  to  see  it 
with  a  very  anxious  face.  When  he  returned  the 
care-worn  expression  had  given  place  to  one  of  restful 
satisfaction,  and  there  was  no  longer  any  objection  to 
building  Monitors. 

A  young  man,  or  rather  a  boy,  from  the  Atlantic 
fleet  one  day  presented  to  Captain  Fox  a  note  from 
"  Dave  Porter, "  as  the  captain  usually  denominated 
Commodore  D.  D.  Porter,  the  substance  of  which 
was,  "  Gushing  thinks  he  can  sink  the  Albemarle  and 
wants  to  try.  I  believe  he  can,  so  I  send  him  to  you. " 

"  I  was  taken  aback  by  the  boyish  appearance  of 
Cushing, "  said  Captain  Fox,  "  but  Green  on  the  Mon 
itor  and  some  other  boys  had  been  doing  good  work, 
and  I  decided  to  examine  him.  'Why,'  I  asked,  'do 
you  think  you  can  sink  the  rebel  ram?'  " 

"  'She  is  surrounded  by  a  boom  of  logs  about  a  hun 
dred  yards  distant,'  he  said.  'I  know  that  logs  with 
the  bark  off,  that  have  laid  for  a  year  in  one  of  the 
Southern  rivers,  are  covered  with  a  slime  which  is 
very  slippery.  As  the  principal  difficulty  is  to  get 


312  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

at  the  Albemarle,  I  went  up  one  night  and  examined 
the  boom.  The  logs  are  so  slippery  that  a  boat  with 
a  keel  of  the  proper  shape  will  ride  over  them  easily, 
I  can  get  at  her  with  a  suitable  boat. ' 

"  'But  how  will  you  carry  your  torpedo?'  I  asked. 

"  'This  way,'  he  replied,  producing  a  small  card  011 
which  he  had  drawn  an  ordinary  cat-boat  with  a 
mast  near  the  bow.  He  had  hinged  a  spar  to  the 
bow  which  carried  the  torpedo  on  its  end.  When 
not  in  use  this  spar  was  drawn  up  so  that  it  stood 
upright  in  contact  with  the  mast.  When  ready  to 
be  used,  the  spar  was  lowered  and  the  torpedo  was  to 
be  exploded  by  a  lanyard  attached  to  the  trigger  of 
the  lock." 

"  Don't  you  think  it  will  require  a  cool  man  to  go 
through  that  complicated  performance?"  asked  the 
captain. 

"  Yes,"  he  said.  "  A  man  must  be  cool  to  do  any 
thing  worth  doing.  I  think  I  can  do  it  if  I  can  get 
a  boat." 

"Howdo  you  expect  to  escape?  The  enemy  will 
make  the  shore  as  light  as  day  and  hundreds  of  men 
will  be  firing  upon  you." 

"  I  don't  think  I  can  tell  beforehand  what  I  will 
do.  I  propose  to  blow  up  the  ram.  We  must  take 
our  chances  of  escape  when  the  time  comes.  It  may 
be  best  to  jump  overboard  and  swim  for  it.  I  have 
got  a  crew  picked  out  and  we  are  willing  to  take  our 
chances." 

The  boy  had  worked  out  the  problem,  with  the  re 
sult  that  the  chances  were  in  favor  of  success.  Cap 
tain  Fox  gave  him  an  order  on  the  navy-yard  at 
Chester  to  have  two  boats  built  under  his  direction. 
He  found  two  boats  there  which  would  answer  the 


GUSTAVUS  VASA  FOX.  313 

purpose.  One  was  captured  by  the  rebels,  the  other 
arrived  safely  in  the  river.  How  Gushing  sunk  the 
Albemarle  and  how  he  escaped  he  has  himself  told 
us,  and  the  story  is  of  such  interest  that  I  leave  the 
reader  to  enjoy  it  and  will  not  repeat  any  part  of  it 
here. 

After  the  war  the  ram  Dunderberg  was  sold  to 
Russia.  Captain  Fox  proposed  to  take  her  to  the 
Baltic,  and  our  Government  made  him  the  bearer  of 
its  congratulations  to  the  new  emperor.  I  asked  the 
captain  whether  the  voyage  would  not  be  one  of 
danger. 

"Not  at  all,"  he  replied.  "It  will  be  much  more 
comfortable  than  a  voyage  on  an  ocean  steamer  in 
midsummer.  Instead  of  rising,  falling,  pitching,  and 
rolling  with  the  seas,  the  seas  will  quietly  roll  over 
the  Dunderberg  and  the  vessel  will  rest  quietly  on 
an  even  keel.  Such  a  vessel  is  a  raft  that  cannot  be 
swamped."  He  offered  to  demonstrate  the  fact  by 
tables  of  figures  which  were  as  inexplicable  to  me  as 
the  higher  mathematics. 

As  he  told  me  afterward,  experience  proved  the 
correctness  of  his  figures.  He  had  a  most  comforta 
ble  voyage,  and  delivered  the  vessel  to  Russia,  where 
he  was  received  and  entertained  with  all  the 
honors. 

Captain  Fox  took  a  leisurely  journey  through  India 
and  China.  He  was  satisfied  there  was  some  good 
reason  underlying  the  Chinese  policy  of  the  exclusion 
of  foreigners.  He  believed  he  had  ascertained  that 
reason.  It  interested  me  as  he  gave  it  on  his  return, 
and  as  I  have  not  seen  it  elsewhere,  I  repeat  it  on  the 
chance  that  it  may  interest  others. 

In  the  interior  provinces  of  China,  he  said,  the  ad- 


314  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

justment  of  production  to  consumption  was  so  close 
that  in  an  average  season  the  soil  and  the  waters 
would  just  support  the  population.  Not  only  was 
there  no  surplus,  but  every  ounce  of  fertilizing  ma 
terial  had  to  be  saved,  every  superficial  foot  of  soil 
be  forced  to  yield  its  largest  possible  product,  and  the 
whole  must  be  used  with  the  most  rigid  economj^. 

He  had  actually  seen  in  real  life  the  original  of 
the  picture  in  our  early  school  geographies,  "A 
Chinese  selling  rats  and  puppies  for  pies."  If  by 
drought,  tempest,  or  any  other  cause  the  crops  were 
diminished,  famine  was  inevitable.  Famines  were 
frequent  and  the  deaths  by  starvation  numbered  in 
conceivable  thousands.  Any  invasion  of  foreigners 
disturbed  existing  conditions  and  tended  to  increase 
the  demand  for  and  lessen  the  supply  of  food.  The 
authorities  therefore  opposed  foreigners  as  they  did 
every  other  disturbing  cause. 

There  were  few  officers  connected  with  the  Govern 
ment  during  the  war  more  intelligent,  I  am  sure 
there  were  none  more  highly  esteemed  by  the  Presi 
dent,  than  Captain  Fox.  I  do  not  know  whether  it 
was  his  habit  to  make  notes.  If  it  was,  his  note 
books  must  contain  a  mine  of  valuable  historical 
material. 

BENJAMIN  WADE. 

Republicans  never  quite  forgave  Mr.  Wade  for  his 
opposition  to  the  renomination  of  Mr.  Lincoln  and 
the  manifesto  which  he  afterward  signed  with 
Henry  Winter  Davis.  It  will  seem  incredible  to  the 
present  generation  that  General  Fremont  should  have 
accepted  a  nomination  which  Mr.  Chase  refused,  and 
then  have  had  the  assurance  to  write  that  if  the  Bal- 


BENJAMIN  WADE.  315 

timore  Convention  nominated  any  one  but  Mr. 
Lincoln,  he  would  not  stand  in  the  way ;  but  if  Mr. 
Lincoln  was  renominated  "  it  would  be  fatal  to  the 
country  to  indorse  a  policy  and  renew  a  power  which 
has  cost  us  the  lives  of  thousands  of  men  and  need 
lessly  put  the  country  on  the  road  to  bankruptcy." 
The  nomination  of  General  Fremont  fell  upon  the 
country  so  dead  that  he  probably  had  no  friend  who 
did  not  deeply  regret  that  it  had  been  made. 

Ben  Wade  was  a  bluff,  outspoken,  earnest  Repub 
lican  who  once  happened  to  go  wrong.  I  could  forgive 
him  for  his  error  when  I  heard  his  exultation  over 
the  nomination  of  Governor  Chase  for  chief  justice. 
"  In  the  early  winter  of  1861,"  he  said,  "  when  Chief 
Justice  Taney  was  ill,  I  used  to  pray  daily  and  ear 
nestly  that  his  life  might  be  preserved  until  the  in 
auguration  of  President  Lincoln,  who  would  appoint 
a  Republican  chief  justice,  but  when  I  saw  how 
complete  his  recovery  was  and  how  his  life  was  pro 
longed,  I  began  to  fear  that  I  had  overdone  the 
business ! " 

In  this  connection  I  must  refer  to  what,  though  not 
intended  for  such  a  purpose,  was  a  stroke  of  policy 
which  would  have  excited  the  admiration  of  Riche 
lieu.  Upon  the  failure  of  the  Fremont  movement  the 
restless  element  undertook  to  bring  forward  General 
Grant.  They  called  a  meeting  in  New  York  nomi 
nally  to  express  the  national  gratitude  to  him,  really 
to  bring  him  out  as  a  candidate,  and  supposed  they 
made  the  incident  cutting  to  the  President  by  send 
ing  him  an  invitation  to  the  meeting.  Mr.  Lincoln 
replied  that  he  could  not  attend,  but  he  wrote  that  he 
approved  of  "whatever  might  strengthen  General 
Grant  and  the  noble  armies  under  his  direction.  .  .  . 


316  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

He  and  his  brave  soldiers  are  now  in  the  midst  of 
their  great  trial,  and  I  trust  that  at  your  meeting 
you  will  so  shape  your  good  words  that  they  may 
turn  to  men  and  guns  moving  to  his  and  their  sup 
port  !  "  This  letter  crushed  the  movement,  though 
General  Grant  peremptorily  refused  to  be  made  a 
candidate  and  reiterated  the  President's  appeal  for 
aid  and  support. 

LINCOLN  AS  A  WOOD-CHOPPER. 

The  President  one  day  witnessed  a  singular  scene 
from  the  Potomac  front  of  the  Treasury.  The  Vir 
ginia  hills  were  covered  with  an  original  forest  of 
noble  chestnuts  and  other  deciduous  trees.  They 
began  to  fall  as  if  a  resistless  wave  had  swept  over 
them,  all  in  one  direction,  many  acres  of  them  at  a 
time.  To  one  who  did  not  understand  the  cause  it 
was  almost  frightful,  and  suggested  an  earthquake. 
As  was  not  unusual,  a  colored  messenger  had  brought 
the  first  information  that  the  Sixth  Maine,  a  regiment 
of  lumbermen,  would  attack  the  forest  on  that  day. 
They  cut  the  trees  until  they  were  almost  ready  to 
fall,  and  then  selecting  those  on  the  outside  which 
would  fall  in  the  same  direction,  felled  them  at  the 
same  moment.  As  they  struck  the  trees  nearest 
them  those  also  fell,  and  the  whole  forest  went  down 
like  a  row  of  bricks  standing  on  end.  A  Treasury 
officer  explained  that  the  scene  was  the  work  of  the 
Maine  wood-choppers. 

"I  don't  believe,"  said  the  President,  "that  there 
is  a  man  in  that  regiment  with  longer  arms  than 
mine  or  who  can  swing  an  axe  better  than  I  can. 
By  jings!  I  should  like  to  change  works  with  one  of 
them.  Sometimes  I  think  that  a  private  could  run 


FRANCIS  E.   SPINNER.  317 

the  engine  better  than  I  do !  I  would  like  to  see  all 
the  soldiers  in  the  rebel  armies  falling  like  those 
trees !  and  then  I  would  like  to  see  them  all  rise  up  as 
loyal  men  and  stand  upon  their  feet !"  If  this  ex 
pression  was  blood-thirsty,  it  was  the  worst  which  I 
heard  from  his  lips  during  the  war. 

FRANCIS  E.  SPINNER. 

One  of  the  best  men  in  the  civil  service  of  the 
United  States  was  the  Treasurer,  Francis  E.  Spinner. 
He  was  not  a  many-sided  man.  He  had  only  one, 
his  loyal  side,  which  was  so  thick  that  it  went 
clear  through  him.  He  was  free  and  outspoken 
in  his  opinions.  He  sometimes  used  adjectives 
which  were  more  emphatic  and  appropriate  than  they 
were  select.  I  never  regarded  his  expressions  as  at 
all  profane. 

One  day  he  entered  the  Register's  office  very 
abruptly.  He  was  literally  furious.  He  threw  a 
newspaper  cutting  upon  my  desk.  "Read  that,"  he 
exclaimed,  "and  see  to  what  depths  of  infamy  a 
Northern  copperhead  can  descend.  If  the  scoundrel 
who  wrote  that  don't  broil  hereafter,  it  will  be  be 
cause  the  devil  hasn't  got  enough  hot  iron  to  make  a 
gridiron." 

The  article  stated  that  Jeff.  Davis  was  paid  his 
salary  in  Confederate  money,  which  was  so  depre 
ciated  that  his  twenty-five  thousand  was  only  worth 
fifteen  hundred  dollars,  which  was  all  he  had  to  live 
on,  but  Lincoln  would  not  take  greenbacks  because 
they  were  depreciated,  and  collected  his  twenty-five 
thousand  a  year  in  gold  or  gold  certificates,  while  the 
soldiers  had  to  accept  greenbacks  at  a  discount  of 
more  than  fifty  per  cent ! 


318  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

The  Treasurer  wished  me  to  have  a  statement  made 
of  the  amounts  shown  by  my  books  to  have  been  paid 
Mr.  Lincoln  on  account  of  salary.  He  was  about  to 
make  a  statement  from  his  books,  and  he  wished  to 
publish  my  statement  with  his.  I  objected  that  we 
should  dignify  the  scandal  by  noticing  it,  but  he  said 
he  was  getting  letters  every  day  inquiring  about  it 
and  they  made  him  sick.  He  could  not  kill  the 
rascal,  for  he  wrote  anonymously,  and  we  must  there 
fore  step  on  his  lie. 

Of  course  there  was  not  a  shadow  of  truth  in  the 
statement.  The  President's  salary,  like  all  others, 
was  paid  monthly  by  sending  him  a  draft  on  the 
Treasury  for  the  amount,  deducting  the  internal  rev 
enue  tax.  These  drafts  he  had  not  collected,  but 
had  left  the  money  in  the  Treasury  without  interest 
until  the  loss  of  interest  amounted,  according  to  my 
recollection,  to  some  five  thousand  dollars.  The  libel 
did  operate  to  the  profit  of  the  President.  His  friends 
got  from  him  written  authority  and  afterward  in 
vested  such  amounts  of  his  salary  as  he  did  not  use 
in  bonds  of  the  United  States  bought  at  current  rates 
in  the  open  market. 

This  grand  old  man,  Treasurer  Spinner,  died  about 
two  years  ago.  He  was  a  long  and  patient  sufferer 
from  a  painful  disease  which  destroyed  his  eyesight 
long  before  his  death.  One  of  the  choicest  memo 
rabilia  in  my  possession  is  what  I  believe  to  be  the 
last  letter  written  by  his  own  honest  hand. 

A  TREASURY  AUDITOR  OF  THE  ANTIQUE  PATTERN. 

One  of  the  auditors,  a  "hold-over"  from  some 
former  administration,  one  day  wished  to  read  me  an 
opinion  which  he  had  just  completed.  Evidently  he 


TREASURY  AUDITOR  OF  ANTIQUE  PATTERN.    319 

was  very  proud  of  it,  and  I  consented  to  listen  to  it 
at  a  considerable  loss  of  time. 

When  it  was  decided  that  Captain  Fox  should  at 
tempt  to  reinforce  Major  Anderson  in  Fort  Sumter, 
the  commissary  or  quartermaster  in  New  York  had 
been  ordered  to  purchase  and  load  the  vessel  with 
supplies.  That  officer,  aware  that  Major  Anderson 
and  his  men  had  been  living  for  a  long  time  on  very 
ancient  army  rations,  had  upon  his  own  motion  sent 
them  some  canned  vegetables  and  fresh  meats,  small 
quantities  of  tobacco,  cigars,  and  fluids  that  came  in 
bottles,  preserved  fruits,  and  such  other  delicacies  as 
he  could  think  of ;  these  extra  articles  amounting  in 
all  to  some  four  or  five  hundred  dollars.  He  had  paid 
and  claimed  a  credit  for  them  in  his  monthly  account 
upon  which  this  auditor  had  to  pass  before  the  credits 
were  allowed. 

The  first  half  of  the  opinion,  which  was  thirty 
foolscap  pages  in  length,  was  a  lecture  to  the  officer 
upon  the  necessity  of  conforming  to  the  regulations 
and  the  imminent  danger  of  departing  from  them. 
Each  credit  was  then  considered  in  extenso,  with  the 
final  result  that  all  the  items  were  disallowed.  After 
reading  the  opinion  he  asked  what  I  thought  of  it. 

"  Have  you  any  copies  of  the  document?"  I  asked. 

"  No."     But  he  intended  to  have  copies  made. 

"Any  memoranda  or  notes  of  it?" 

"No."  He  had  prepared  it  at  his  residence.  He 
had  written  it  off-hand  and  had  made  no  notes. 

"  Are  you  quite  certain  that  you  have  left  no  scraps 
of  paper,  no  pencil-marks,  nothing  which  could  be 
associated  or  connected  with  the  document?" 

"  I  am,"  he  said.  "  But  why  are  you  so  particular 
about  notes  or  memoranda?" 


320  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

"  Because,"  I  said,  "  if  I  were  in  your  place  I  should 
be  very  much  ashamed  of  that  document.  I  should 
put  it  into  the  nearest  fire  and  watch  it  until  it  was 
consumed  to  the  last  word  or  period.  I  should  be 
sure  that  I  had  picked  up  and  destroyed  every  scrap 
of  writing  connected  with  it.  I  should  then  wash 
my  hands  thoroughly  and  pray  the  Almighty  to  for 
give  me  the  sin  of  writing  it.  Then  I  should  have 
some  hope  of  sleeping  with  a  clear  conscience." 

Soon  after  he  left  my  office.  He  never  showed  me 
another  opinion.  I  thought  from  his  appearance  that 
he  was  not  pleased  with  my  criticisms.  However, 
some  months  afterward  ifc  occurred  to  me  to  send  to 
my  files  room  for  the  account  of  the  officer  in  New 
York  for  April,  1861.  It  was  one  containing  the  ob 
jectionable  credits,  and  I  was  pleased  to  see  that  not 
one  of  them  was  disallowed. 

ADAM  GUROWSKI. 

Among  the  many  singular  characters  developed  by 
the  war  in  Washington,  the  most  extraordinary,  me 
judice,  was  Adam  Gurowski.  He  was  employed  as 
a  translator  in  the  State  Department.  No  one  knew 
anything  about  his  early  history.  He  was  supposed 
to  be  a  Pole  who  had  been  obliged  to  leave  Europe  on 
account  of  his  revolutionary  proclivities.  He  spoke 
of  crowned  heads  as  familiar  acquaintances,  and 
claimed  that  he  had  taught  Louis  Napoleon  and 
Cavour  how  to  conspire.  He  was  an  amusing  and 
interesting  person,  thoroughly  truthful,  but  his  judg 
ment  was  so  warped  by  prejudice  as  to  be  unreliable. 
He  had  an  amazing  facility  for  making  acquaintan 
ces  and  discovering  secrets,  and  wielded  a  trenchant 
pen.  He  hated  slavery.  I  think  in  the  course  of  the 


ADAM  GUROWSKI.  321 

war  he  praised  and  blamed  every  man  of  any  promi 
nence  on  our  side  in  the  military  and  civil  service. 
I  find  these  notes  of  his  which  I  preserved  on  account 
of  their  structure : 

"  The  old  brave  warrior  Scott  watched  at  the  door 
of  the  Union ;  his  shadow  made  the  infamous  rats 
tremble  and  crawl  off,  and  so  Scott  transmitted  to 
Lincoln  what  could  be  saved  during  the  treachery  of 
Buchanan." 

"Seward,  Sumner,  and  the  rest  fear  that  Europe 
will  recognize  the  secesh.  I  know  there  is  no  danger 
and  I  tell  them  so.  Europe  recognizes  faits  accom- 
plis,  and  a  great  deal  of  blood  will  run  before  secesh 
becomes  un  fait  accompli." 

"April,  1861.  Consummatum  est.  The  crime 
in  full  blast;  Sumter  bombarded.  Now  the  admin 
istration  is  startled ;  so  is  the  brave  old  North.  The 
President  calls  on  the  country  for  75,000  men;  tele 
gram  has  spoken;  they  rise,  they  arm,  they  come. 
The  excitement,  the  wrath,  is  terrible.  Party  lines 
burn,  dissolved  by  excitement.  Now  the  people  is  in 
fusion  as  bronze;  if  Lincoln  and  the  leaders  have 
mettle,  they  can  cast  such  arms,  moral,  material,  and 
legislative,  as  will  at  once  destroy  this  rebellion." 

Gurowski  at  the  outset  judged  correctly  of  the 
length  and  magnitude  of  the  struggle.  In  April, 
1861,  he  wrote:  "  This  war — war  it  will  be  and  a  ter 
rible  one,  notwithstanding  all  the  prophecies  of  Mr. 
Seward  to  the  contrary — this  war  will  generate  new 
necessities  and  new  formulas,  it  will  bring  forth  new 
social,  physical,  and  moral  creations ;  so  we  are  in 
the  period  of  gestation.  But  democracy  will  not  be 
destroyed ;  but  destroyed  will  be  the  most  infamous 
oligarchy  ever  known  in  history;  oligarchy  issued 
21 


322  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

neither  from  the  sword,  nor  the  gown,  nor  the  shop, 
but  wombed,  generated,  cemented,  and  sustained  by 
the  traffic  in  man." 

Was  it  not  remarkable  that  this  foreigner,  whose 
views  were  so  extreme  that  some  called  him  crazy, 
should  have  judged  the  coming  contest  more  accu 
rately  than  the  best  American  statesmen? 

On  the  6th  of  October,  1861,  Gurowski  saw  and 
passed  his  judgment  upon  McClellan.  "  My  enthu 
siasm  for  him,"  he  wrote,  "my  faith  is  wholly  ex 
tinct.  It  made  me  sick  at  heart  to  hear  him,  and  to 
think  that  he  is  to  decide  over  the  destinies  and  blood 
of  a  free  people.  And  he  already  an  idol,  incensed, 
worshipped  before  he  has  done  anything  whatever. 
He  may  have  courage,  so  has  almost  every  animal, 
but  he  has  not  the  decision  and  the  courage  of  a  mili 
tary  leader  and  a  captain." 

On  the  9th  of  November,  1862,  he  wrote:  "Great 
and  holy  day!  McClellan  gone  overboard.  Better 
late  than  never.  But  this  belated  act  of  justice  can 
not  atone  for  all  the  deadly  disasters  caused  by  this 
horrible  vampire." 

In  July,  1863,  when  President  Lincoln  was  press 
ing  the  pursuit  of  the  rebel  army,  Gurowski  wrote : 
"  Lee  retreats  toward  the  Potomac.  If  they  let  him 
recross  there,  our  shame  is  nameless."  On  the  16th 
he  said :  "  Lee  recrossed  the  Potomac !  Thundering 
storms,  rising  waters,  and  about  150,000  men  at  his 
heels !  Our  brave  soldiers  again  baffled,  almost  dis 
honored  by  know-nothing  generalship.  We  have 
lost  the  occasion  to  crush  three-fourths  of  the  rebel 
lion!" 

"  In  that  fated,  cursed  council  of  war  which  allowed 
Lee  to  escape,  my  patriot  Wadsworth  was  the  most 


PERLEY  P.   PITKIN.  323 

decided,  the  most  outspoken  in  favor  of  attacking 
Lee.  Wads  worth  never  fails  when  honor  and  patri 
otism  are  to  be  sustained." 

Does  any  critic  ask  why  I  have  quoted  these  notes 
of  Gurowski?  It  is  because  he  did  not  hesitate  to 
say  what  the  masses  of  the  American  people  thought, 
what  their  leaders  knew  but  had  not  the  courage  to 
declare. 

PERLEY  P.  PITKIN,   AVOLUNTEER  QUARTER 
MASTER. 

It  was  at  Montpelier,  in  the  early  fifties,  during 
my  first  term  in  the  State  Senate,  that  a  very  long 
and  awkward  Vermonter  came  to  my  rooms  and,  in 
troducing  himself,  consulted  me  about  some  act  which 
seriously  affected  the  town  he  represented.  Had  I 
judged  by  his  apparel  and  appearance,  I  should  have 
pronounced  him  green,  but  before  the  first  interview 
was  over  I  had  discovered  that  he  had  a  "  heap  of 
common  sense,"  and  knew  perfectly  what  he  did  not 
want  as  well  as  what  he  wanted.  I  liked  him,  and 
though  I  have  entirely  forgotten  what  he  wanted,  I 
have  no  doubt,  upon  general  principles,  that  I  assisted 
him  to  the  best  of  my  ability. 

In  the  autumn  of  1861  he  appeared  one  evening 
at  my  house  in  Washington,  in  uniform,  accompanied 
by  his  son,  a  lad  of  some  ten  years.  He  had  no  busi 
ness,  he  said ;  he  called  on  me  because  I  had  assisted 
him  once  and  he  might  have  to  call  on  me  again. 
He  then  told  me  that  he  was  quartermaster  of  the 
Second  Vermont  Regiment,  which  was  then  in  camp, 
under  Colonel  Whiting,  back  of  the  ancient  city  of 
Alexandria,  near  Monson's  Hill.  He  volunteered 


324  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

the  statement  that  he  didn't  know  much  about  the 
"regulations,"  but  he  expected  to  learn,  and  if  he 
got  into  trouble  he  might  want  me  to  help  him  out 
— which,  of  course,  I  promised  to  do. 

My  next  information  about  Quartermaster  Pitkin 
was  that  he  expected  to  be  arrested  on  a  charge  of 
stealing  a  steamboat  which  was  in  the  government 
service  on  the  Potomac.  Lieutenant- Colonel  Stan- 
nard,  who  was  afterward  heard  from  at  Gettysburg, 
gave  me  the  facts,  and  said  the  regiment  intended  to 
stand  by  their  quartermaster.  Pitkin  had  just  re 
turned  from  Vermont  with  the  horses  which  he  had 
purchased  for  the  mounted  officers  of  the  regiment, 
and  had  them  in  a  stable  in  the  outskirts  of  Alexan 
dria.  One  night  there  was  an  alarm,  the  long  roll 
was  beaten,  and  the  word  went  through  the  regiment 
that  the  terrible  Mosby  with  his  uncounted  guerillas 
was  about  to  pounce  on  the  camp.  Pitkin  summoned 
his  men,  rushed  his  horses  down  to  the  dock  and  on 
board  a  steamboat  which  he  found  there,  with  steam 
up,  waiting  to  carry  some  messenger  to  Washington. 
Being  in  uniform  the  engineer  readily  obeyed  his 
orders  to  start  the  engine;  some  one  went  to  the 
wheel,  the  boat  was  cast  off  and  began  to  turn  into 
the  river,  when  the  officer  who  was  waiting  for  his 
dispatches  succeeded  in  leaping  on  board  and  in 
great  wrath  wished  to  know  what  he  was  doing 
with  his  steamboat. 

Pitkin  replied  that  he  "  was  taking  a  lot  of  the  best 
horses  in  the  country  to  a  safe  place  where  the  rebels 
would  not  get  them." 

"  But  you  have  no  right  to  take  my  boat !  You  are 
violating  the  regulations !  You  are  liable  to  be  court- 
marti ailed  and  shot.  Bring  that  boat  back  to  the  dock 


PERLEY  P.   PITKIN.  325 

or  I  will  complain  of  you  and  have  you  arrested. 
You  will  certainly  be  shot  if  you  disobey." 

"Oh!  that's  all  right,"  coolly  remarked  the  quar 
termaster.  "  They  can  shoot  me  if  they  want  to,  but 
Mosby  can't  have  them  hosses!" 

Mosby  did  not  get  "them  hosses."  It  turned  out 
to  be  a  false  alarm,  and  being  satisfied  on  that  score, 
Pitkin  ordered  the  steamboat  back  to  the  dock  and 
surrendered  possession  to  the  legitimate  officer.  He 
was  not  court-martialled. 

Pitkin  came  to  my  house  several  times,  always  ac 
companied  by  his  son.  Some  time  in  the  spring  of 
Grant's  battle  summer  of  1864,  I  saw  that  he  wore 
the  undress  uniform  of  a  colonel.  I  asked  him  about 
his  promotion,  to  which  he  made  some  indefinite  reply 
that  he  knew  about  wagons,  and  Grant  had  put  him 
in  charge  of  the  army- wagon  train.  He  did  not  tell 
me,  what  I  learned  later,  that  the  army- wagon  train 
consisted  of  four  thousand  wagons,  and  that  his 
energy  and  ability  had  gained  for  him  as  high  a 
position  in  the  esteem  of  General  Grant  as  General 
Amos  Beckwith,  another  Green  Mountain  boy,  had 
in  that  of  General  Sherman. 

A  surgeon  brought  my  next  report  of  Quartermas 
ter  Pitkin.  It  came  just  after  Grant's  continuous 
fighting  for  a  week  in  the  Wilderness,  when  that 
dreadful  procession  of  ambulances,  filled  with  the 
wounded,  moved  continuously  for  three  days  from  the 
Sixth  Street  wharf  to  the  hills  north  of  Washington, 
never  halting  except  to  take  in  and  discharge  their 
helpless  passengers.  The  wounded  were  brought  to 
Belle  Plain,  on  the  Rappahannock,  whence  they  were 
sent  by  steamers  to  Washington.  All  the  steamers 
obtainable  were  making  their  trips  as  rapidly  as  pos- 


326  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

sible,  and  yet  so  great  was  the  multitude  that  thou 
sands  of  wounded  and  dying  men  were  lying  in  the 
fields,  without  shelter,  awaiting  their  turn.  Grant 
knew  who  the  man  was  who  would  soonest  get  that 
suffering  crowd  into  the  hospitals,  and  he  sent  him 
from  his  other  important  duties  to  this  indispensable 
one. 

While  these  transfers  were  being  made  with  all  the 
energy  possible  to  human  hands,  a  fine,  swift  steamer 
came  down  from  Washington.  It  was  General  But 
ler's  dispatch-boat,  with  an  officer  on  board  carrying 
dispatches  to  the  general.  He  had  gone  on  his  mis 
sion.  Finding  the  steamboat  at  the  wharf,  Pitkin 
ordered  his  men  to  carry  the  wounded  on  board.  The 
officer  in  charge  stormed,  raved,  and  threatened  dire 
things  if  General  Butler's  boat  was  interfered  with. 

"  Do  you  propose  to  have  this  boat  do  nothing  for 
two  days,  with  our  men  dying  in  the  fields,  when  in 
that  time  she  can  make  four  trips  to  Washington?" 
demanded  Pitkin. 

The  officer  declared  that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  wounded.  His  orders  were  to  lie  at  the  dock 
until  the  messenger  returned,  and  no  man  would 
move  the  boat  except  by  his  orders. 

Pitkin  called  a  sergeant  and  a  file  of  men.  "  If 
that  man,"  he  said,  pointing  to  the  young  officer,  "at 
tempts  to  interfere  with  the  transfer  of  the  wounded, 
you  will  put  him  under  arrest  and  remove  him !" 

Then  Pitkin  went  about  his  business.  The  steam 
boat  made  four  trips  to  Washington  before  the  return 
of  the  messenger,  and  when  she  carried  him  to  the 
capital  she  carried  another  load  of  the  wounded. 

The  young  officer  whose  self-esteem  had  suffered 
in  the  transaction  made  complaint ;  a  court  of  inquiry 


PERLEY  P.   PITKIN.  327 

was  ordered,  which  recommended  that  Pitkin  should 
be  tried  by  court-martial  upon  serious  charges  and 
specifications.  These  were  prepared  and  submitted 
to  General  Grant  for  his  approval.  Nothing  was 
heard  from  them  for  some  time,  and  the  young  officer 
made  inquiry  of  General  Grant  whether  his  attention 
had  been  called  to  them.  The  general  replied  that 
he  had  considered  the  case,  and  had  decided  that  he 
would  postpone  its  further  consideration  until  after 
the  close  of  the  war. 

Late  in  November,  1864,  the  governor  of  Vermont 
insisted  that  Pitkin  must  return  to  take  the  important 
office  of  quartermaster-general  of  the  State,  to  which 
he  had  been  unanimously  elected  by  the  legislature. 
Greatly  to  General  Grant's  regret  Pitkin  obeyed  his 
governor  and  resigned  his  office.  He  held  the  new 
office  to  which  he  had  been  elected  for  the  six  follow 
ing  years  and  then  declined  a  re-election.  He  was 
not  tried  by  court-martial. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

LAW  AS  A  PROGRESSIVE  SCIENCE — Is  PROGRESS 
ALWAYS  AN  ADVANCE? — CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EV 
IDENCE—THE  BOORN  CASE. 

THE  law  is  progressive.  Progress  is  an  element  of 
all  true  science — very  desirable  when  it  is  in  the  direc 
tion  of  an  advance.  It  should  be  fhe  care  of  the  bar  as 
well  as  the  courts  to  see  to  it  that  the  law  does  not 
experience  what  is  sometimes  called  apocatastasis, 
or  progress  backward. 

Recent  occurrences,  including  decisions  of  courts 
once  of  high  authority,  have  called  this  subject  to  the 
attention  of  thoughtful  members  of  the  bar.  I  will 
not  name  them  further  than  to  say  that  they  suggest 
the  possibility  of  securing,  through  evidence  wholly 
circumstantial,  a  conviction  for  crimes  which  have 
not  been  committed .  The  danger  arises  from  accept 
ing  circumstantial  evidence  of  the  corpus  delicti; 
of  the  fact  that  a  crime  was  committed  as  well  as  of 
the  guilt  of  the  person  charged;  and  the  violation 
of  another  canon  of  criminal  evidence  that  circum 
stances  consistent  with  any  possible  hypothesis  of 
innocence  are  not  admissible  to  prove  guilt. 

An  incident  which  occurred  when  I  was  a  student 
illustrates  the  caution  of  the  courts  of  that  time  in 
accepting  proof  of  the  corpus  delicti.  A  man  was 
indicted  in  Franklin  County,  Vt.,  for  the  murder  of 
his  wife  and  child  by  drowning.  In  crossing  a  pond 

328 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE.  329 

or  lake  in  a  leaky  boat,  the  boat  sank,  the  prisoner 
got  ashore,  but  his  wife  and  child  were  drowned. 
The  rural  community  promptly  decided  that  they 
were  murdered.  The  necessary  proof  was  supplied 
by  a  dream.  Some  neighbor  dreamed  that  the  shawls 
and  detachable  clothing  of  the  victims  had  been  con 
cealed  by  the  prisoner  in  a  certain  hollow  tree,  where 
they  were  found.  As  they  must  have  been  concealed 
by  the  prisoner,  the  fact  was  accepted  as  proof  of  his 
guilt. 

The  husband  was  indicted  by  the  grand  jury  for 
murder.  He  was  inadequately  defended  by  a  young 
attorney,  and  when  the  evidence  of  the  dream  was 
offered,  Benjamin  H.  Smalley,  who  was  sitting 
within  the  bar,  volunteered  to  argue  the  objection  to 
its  admission.  The  Smalleys  were  a  fearless  race. 
It  was  another  member  of  the  family,  David  A., 
who  as  judge  of  the  Circuit  Court  of  the  United 
States,  sitting  in  New  York,  convicted  a  wretch  and 
caused  him  to  be  hung  for  piracy ;  and  early  in  the 
spring  of  1861,  in  a  charge  to  the  grand  jury  in  the 
same  city,  defined  the  crime  of  treason  in  words  that 
delighted  loyal  men  and  chilled  the  blood  in  the  hearts 
of  those  who  supposed  they  could  commit  the  crime 
with  impunity. 

It  must  have  been  a  powerful  argument  made  on 
the  spur  of  the  moment  which  made  such  an  impres 
sion  upon  the  mind  of  a  student  that  it  has  not  been 
effaced  by  the  lapse  of  forty  years.  The  point  of  it 
was  that  neither  the  proof  offered  nor  any  that  had 
been  given  was  satisfactoiy  evidence  that  a  murder 
had  been  committed ;  and  that  the  proof  on  that  point 
must  be  positive  and  leave  no  doubt  whatever  of  the 
fact  of  the  crime.  He  cited  as  a  precedent  one  of 


330  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

the  most  interesting  cases  which  ever  occurred,  and 
on  its  force  the  evidence  offered  was  excluded.  Evi 
dence  of  the  prisoner's  admissions  secured  his  convic 
tion,  but  his  insanity  rapidly  developed  and  he  died 
soon  after  the  verdict. 

The  case  cited  by  Mr.  Srnalley  is  known  in  Ver 
mont  as  "  the  Boom  case. "  The  pamphlets  in  which 
it  was  reported  are  so  scarce  and  the  case  is  so  in 
structive  that  I  will  give  its  substance. 

In  the  year  1812  there  resided  in  the  town  of  Man 
chester,  Vt.,  the  two  Brothers  Stephen  and  Jesse 
Boorn,  and  near  them  Russel  Colvin,  who  had  mar 
ried  their  sister.  All  wTere  in  humble  circumstances 
and  supported  their  families  by  labor.  All  were  of 
very  ordinary  capacity ;  Colvin  a  man  of  weak  in 
tellect,  who  was  at  times  deranged.  His  family  in 
creased,  his  ability  to  maintain  them  diminished, 
and  the  obligation  of  supporting  his  wife  and  chil 
dren  in  part  fell  upon  the  Boorns.  This  necessity 
led  to  bickerings  and  altercations,  which  became  fre 
quent  and  sometimes  led  to  assaults  upon  the  unfor 
tunate  Colvin.  Two  or  three  times  he  had  disap 
peared,  leaving  his  family  to  be  wholly  supported  by 
the  Boorns,  but  he  had  returned  after  absences,  the 
longest  of  about  nine  months. 

In  May,  1812,  Colvin  again  disappeared.  Months 
and  then  years  elapsed  and  he  did  not  return.  There 
were  suspicions  that  he  had  met  with  foul  play.  Re 
marks  were  made  by  Stephen  and  Jesse  Boorn  which 
led  the  neighbors  to  believe  that  they  were  in  some 
way  connected  with  his  disappearance. 

Nearly  seven  years  had  passed  after  Colvin's  last 
disappearance,  when  another  member  of  the  Boorn 
family,  an  uncle  of  Stephen  and  Jesse,  had  a  dream. 


THE  BOORN  CASE.  331 

In  his  dream  Colvin  came  to  his  bedside  and  told  him 
that  he  had  been  murdered ;  that  if  he  would  follow 
him  he  would  lead  him  to  the  spot  where  his  body 
was  buried.  This  dream  was  repeated  the  conven 
tional  three  times,  and  the  place  where  the  body  was 
deposited  was  pointed  out.  It  was  a  hole  about  four 
feet  square,  originally  made  for  burying  potatoes,  on 
the  site  where  a  house  had  formerly  stood;  the  hole 
having  since  been  filled  up.  This  pit  was  opened.  It 
yielded  a  large  jack-knife,  a  smaller  one,  and  a  but 
ton.  Before  they  were  shown  to  her,  Mrs.  Colvin 
described  them  minutely ;  and  as  soon  as  she  saw 
them,  declared  that  the  large  knife  and  the  button 
belonged  to  her  husband. 

A  marvellous  circumstance  then  transpired.  A 
lad  with  a  spaniel  dog,  walking  near  the  house  of 
the  father  of  the  Booms,  observed  a  decaying  stump, 
to  which  the  dog  endeavored  to  draw  his  attention 
by  whining  and  running  several  times  from  the  stump 
to  his  master.  The  dog  then  with  his  paws  dug  from 
beneath  the  stump  a  cluster  of  bones.  Further  inves 
tigation  disclosed  in  the  hollow  cavity  of  the  same 
stump  two  toe-nails  which  were  supposed  once  to 
have  been  attached  to  a  human  foot.  The  doctors 
decided  that  the  bones  were  human,  though  one  of 
them  thought  otherwise. 

About  four  years  previously  an  amputated  leg  had 
been  buried  a  few  miles  away.  This  was  exhumed 
as  a  standard  of  comparison,  when  it  was  unanimously 
decided  that  the  bones  were  not  human.  But  it  was 
concluded  that  the  toe-nails  were,  and  as  the  bones 
were  somewhat  broken,  it  was  sagely  decided  that 
the  body  had  been  burned  and  the  bones,  not  being 
consumed,  had  been  cast  into  the  stump,  other  bones 


332  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

being  deposited  with  them  for  purposes  of  deception. 
It  was  then  remembered  that  after  Colvin's  disap 
pearance  a  barn  belonging  to  the  father  of  the  Booms 
had  been  accidentally  consumed  by  fire.  About  the 
same  time  the  Boorns  had  burned  a  log-heap  in  the 
vicinity.  It  was  conjectured  that  the  body,  origi 
nally  buried  under  the  log-heap,  had  been  then  placed 
under  the  barn  and  there  partially  consumed. 

Before  these  discoveries  were  made  the  rural  com 
munity  had  almost  unanimously  decided  that  a  mur 
der  had  been  perpetrated.  It  also  transpired  that  on 
the  day  of  Colvin's  disappearance  he  had  had  a  quar 
rel  with  the  Boorns  which  might  have  ended  in  his 
murder.  But  as  the  evidence  was  wholly  circum 
stantial  it  was  determined  to  dismiss  Jesse  Boorn, 
who  had  been  arrested,  from  any  further  examina 
tion.  The  inquiry  had  been  adjourned  from  the  27th 
of  April  to  the  1st  day  of  May.  In  the  mean  time 
the  search  was  continued  and  the  discoveries  adverted 
to  had  been  made.  Jesse  was  on  the  very  point  of 
being  discharged,  when  with  a  trembling  voice  he 
said  that "  the  first  time  he  suspected  that  his  brother 
Stephen  had  murdered  Colvin  was  last  winter,  when 
Stephen  told  him  that  there  had  been  a  quarrel  be 
tween  himself  and  Colvin,  and  Colvin  attempted  to 
run  away ;  that  he  struck  him  with  a  club  or  a  stone 
on  the  back  of  his  neck  or  head,  which  had  fractured 
his  skull  and  he  supposed  he  was  dead ;  that  he  could 
not  tell  what  became  of  the  body. " 

Stephen  had  removed  to  Lewis  County,  N.  Y.,  a 
distance  of  nearly  two  hundred  miles.  An  officer 
and  two  neighbors  set  out  from  Manchester,  and,  as 
sisted  by  the  people  of  Lewis  County,  surrounded  the 
house  of  the  supposed  murderer,  arrested  him,  put 


THE  BOORN  CASE.  333 

him  in  irons,  tore  him  from  his  distressed  family, 
and  carried  him  to  Manchester.  He  stoutly  asserted 
his  innocence  and  declared  that  he  knew  nothing 
about  the  murder  of  his  brother-in-law.  The  pris 
oners  were  kept  apart  for  a  time,  but  finally  were  put 
into  the  same  cell.  Stephen  denied  the  statements 
of  Jesse  with  indignation.  The  examination  was 
continued  for  many  days.  Every  item  of  evidence 
was  exaggerated  and  new  facts  were  adduced.  A 
son  of  Colvin  testified  that  he  saw  his  uncle  Stephen 
knock  his  father  down,  when  he  was  frightened  and 
ran  away.  Jesse  retracted  his  former  statements  and 
denied  that  Stephen  ever  told  him  that  he  had  killed 
Colvin.  But  the  community  was  of  opinion  that  both 
prisoners  were  guilty,  and  they  were  committed  for 
trial  on  the  charge  of  murder,  to  be  tried  in  the  fol 
lowing  September. 

The  prisoners  were  indicted  by  the  grand  jury, 
but  the  trial  was  deferred  until  the  26th  of  October. 
Stephen  had  maintained  his  innocence  in  the  most 
solemn  and  impressive  terms.  In  the  long  delay  of 
the  trial  the  people  of  the  vicinity  had  free  access  to 
the  prisoners,  who  were  subjected  to  the  influences 
which  not  infrequently  control  the  opinions  of  the 
public.  Belief  in  their  guilt  was  universal.  Every 
succeeding  visitor  advised  them  to  confess  as  the  only 
means  of  saving  their  lives.  Good  men  knelt  with 
them  and  prayed  the  Lord  to  lead  them  to  confession ; 
men  in  a  little  brief  authority  promised  them  the 
weight  of  their  influence  if  they  would  confess.  The 
black  shadow  of  the  gallows  was  ever  before  their 
eyes,  only  to  be  removed  by  confession.  The  rattle 
of  their  chains  seemed  to  voice  confession,  the  walls 
of  their  cells  appeared  to  echo  back  the  sound ;  even 


334  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

hope  itself  seemed  bound  up  in  the  single  word  con 
fession  ! 

It  was  not  strange  that  the  weak  minds  of  these 
inferior  men  lost  their  power  of  resistance  and  finally 
yielded.  On  the  27th  of  August  Stephen  called  for 
pen,  ink,  and  paper  and  in  his  cell  wrote  and  signed 
his  "confession."  The  miserable  falsehood  is  before 
me.  It  is  unnecessary  to  copy  it  in  detail.  Still, 
some  of  its  expressions  so  clearly  show  the  inexplica 
ble  workings  of  the  mind  that  they  ought  to  be  pre 
sented.  They  had  an  altercation;  Stephen  called 
Colvin  a  little  Tory.  Colvin  struck  at  him  "  with  a 
piece  of  beech  limb  about  two  feet  long."  Stephen 
"  caught  it  out  of  Colvin's  hand,  struck  him  a  back 
handed  blow — there  was  a  knot  in  it  one  inch  long, 
which  went  in  on  the  great  cord  on  the  back  of  Col 
vin's  neck,  close  by  the  hair,  broke  off,  and  he  fell." 
When  he  found  Colvin  was  dead  he  put  him  in  the 
corner  of  the  fence  by  the  cellar  hole  and  put  briars 
over  him ;  in  the  night  he  dug  a  grave  with  a  hoe,  put 
him  into  it,  covered  him  up  and  went  home,  crying. 
Long  afterward  he  took  up  the  bonet,  and  buried  them 
under  the  stable  floor  of  his  father's  barn.  The  next 
day  the  barn  was  burned.  He  went  there,  gathered 
up  the  few  bones,  and  threw  them  into  the  river. 
There  were  a  few  little  things  that  he  gathered  up 
and  dropped  into  the  hollow  stump  and  kicked  the 
dirt  over  them.  "  All  these  things  I  acknowledge 
before  the  world." 

The  trial  came  on  in  an  excited  community.  The 
prisoners  pleaded  not  guilty.  Separate  trials  were 
denied  them.  Both  repudiated  their  confessions  and 
solemnly  asserted  that  the  admissions  were  extorted 
from  their  fears.  An  audience  of  six  hundred  people 


THE  BOORN  CASE.  335 

watched  the  trial.  Every  trifling  circumstance  was 
given  in  evidence,  and  as  its  substance  had  reached 
the  jury,  the  prisoner's  counsel  permitted  the  written 
confession  to  be  read.  There  could  be  but  one  result 
in  such  an  excitement.  Both  prisoners  were  convicted 
of  the  crime  of  murder,  and  were  sentenced  "  to  be 
hung  by  the  neck  until  they  were  dead"  on  the  28th 
of  the  following  January. 

The  legislature  was  then  in  session  at  Montpelier, 
the  State  capital.  Some  of  the  good  citizens  of  Man 
chester  presented  the  petitions  of  the  condemned  pris 
oners  for  the  commutation  of  the  death-sentences  to 
imprisonment  for  life.  They  were  willing  that  the 
sentence  of  Jesse  should  be  mitigated,  but  for  Stephen 
they  had  no  mercy.  The  legislature  commuted  the 
sentence  of  Jesse,  but,  by  a  vote  of  97  against  42,  left 
Stephen  to  the  mercies  of  the  hangman. 

And  hung  he  would  have  been  but  for  an  accident 
which  should  have  covered  that  whole  community 
with  mortification.  For  many  years  there  had  been 
settled  over  a  white  congregation  at  West  Rutland 
a  colored  clergyman,  the  Rev.  Lemuel  Haynes.  From 
a  very  low  origin  in  Connecticut,  he  had  by  his  own 
exertions  obtained  an  education,  studied  for  the  min 
istry,  and  become  somewhat  celebrated  for  his  ability 
and  fidelity  in  his  Master's  service.  He  had  preached 
a  sermon  on  "universal  salvation,"  in  answer  to  one 
by  the  Rev.  Eli  Ballou,  which  it  was  said  had  been 
of  tener  republished  than  any  English  book  except  the 
immortal  allegory  of  John  Bunyan.  He  had  resigned 
his  charge  at  West  Rutland  on  account  of  his  ad 
vanced  age  and  come  to  Manchester  to  reside.  But 
he  had  not  ceased  to  visit  the  prisoner  and  comfort 
the  mourner.  He  visited  the  jail  in  Manchester,  saw 


336  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

Jesse  Boorn  take  his  farewell  of  his  brother  and  of 
his  own  family  and  depart  to  the  State  prison, 
there  to  spend  the  remainder  of  his  life.  He  read 
the  Scriptures  to  and  prayed  with  the  brother  left  to 
die.  He  insisted  that  the  convict  should  be  permitted 
to  have  a  candle  and  other  comforts.  Here  is  what 
the  venerable  man  wrote  of  him :  "  He  said :  '  Mr. 
Haynes,  I  see  no  way  but  I  must  die;  everything 
works  against  me ;  but  I  am  an  innocent  man ;  this 
you  will  know  when  I  am  dead.  What  will  become 
of  my  poor  wife  and  children?'  I  told  him  God 
would  take  care  of  them.  He  said :  'I  don't  want  to 
die.  If  they  would  let  me  live  even  here  some 
longer,  perhaps  something  would  happen  which  would 
convince  the  people  of  my  innocence. '  I  was  about 
to  leave  the  prison  when  he  asked,  'Will  you  pray 
with  me?'  He  rose  with  heavy  chains  on  his  hands 
and  legs,  being  chained  down  to  the  floor,  and  stood 
on  his  feet  while  I  prayed." 

And  this  good  minister  said  to  himself,  "  This  poor 
creature  may  be  an  innocent  man.  I  will  try  an  ex 
periment.  "  In  the  next  issue  of  the  Rutland  Herald, 
the  nearest  newspaper,  appeared  this  advertisement : 

"  MURDER  !  Printers  of  newspapers  throughout  the  United 
States  are  desired  to  publish  that  Stephen  Boorn  is  sentenced 
to  be  executed  for  the  murder  of  Russel  Colvin,  who  has  been 
absent  about  seven  years.  Any  person  who  can  give  infor 
mation  of  the  said  Colvin  may  save  the  life  of  an  innocent 
man  by  making  immediate  communication.  Colvin  is  about 
five  feet  five  inches  high,  light  complexion,  light-colored  hair, 
blue  eyes,  about  forty  years  of  age. 

"MANCHESTER,  VT.,  November  26th,  1819." 

The  minister  was  a  poor  man.  He  was  sharply 
ridiculed  for  his  folly  in  spending  his  money  upon  so 


THE  BOORN  CASE.  337 

foolish  an  advertisement.  But  he  had  not  long  to 
wait  for  his  reward.  The  New  York  Evening  Post 
published  the  advertisement  as  an  item  of  interest  on 
the  5th  of  December.  On  the  6th  of  December  Taber 
Chadwick,  a  citizen  of  Shrewsbury,  Monmouth  Co. , 
N.  J.,  informed  the  editor  of  that  paper  that  the 
murdered  Colvin  was  then  living  in  that  town, 
weak  in  mind  but  in  good  bodily  health.  The  Post 
published  Mr.  Chadwick's  letter,  and  the  informa 
tion  it  comprised  was  not  long  in  reaching  the  com 
munity  which  was  so  fierce  in  the  punishment  of 
crime  that  it  had  come  very  near  taking  the  life  of 
an  innocent  man.  Even  then  many  insisted  that  the 
story  was  a  hoax  which  would  end  in  the  ridicule  of 
the  too  confiding  colored  minister.  One  Whelpley, 
formerly  of  Manchester,  but  then  of  New  York,  who 
knew  Colvin,  went  to  New  Jersey  in  quest  of  him. 
He  returned  and  wrote  to  Manchester  that  "  he  had 
Colvin  with  him."  Another  acquaintance  wrote  to 
Manchester,  u  While  I  am  writing  Russel  Colvin  is 
before  me."  Even  then  the  good  people  of  Manches 
ter  were  incredulous  and  laid  wagers  that  the  report 
was  a  deception. 

But  on  the  22dof  December,  when  the  stage  arrived 
at  Bennington,  where  the  court  was  in  session,  Mr. 
Whelpley  was  one  of  its  passengers  and  Russel  Col 
vin  was  another.  The  court  suspended  its  session 
to  look  upon  one  who  in  a  sense  had  been  dead  and 
was  alive  again.  Colvin  recognized  and  called  sev 
eral  acquaintances  by  name. 

"Toward  evening,"  continues  the  narrative  of  the 

good  minister,  "  Colvin  reached   Manchester.      The 

cry  was  raised 'Colvin  has  come!'     The  stage  was. 

driven  swiftly,  and  a  signal  given.     All  was  bustle 

23 


338  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

and  confusion.  The  stage  stopped  at  Captain  Black's 
Inn.  The  village  was  all  alive ;  all  were  running  for 
the  sight  of  the  man  whom  all  believed  to  be  dead. 
The  prison  doors  were  unbolted  and  the  news  an 
nounced  to  Stephen  that  Colvin  had  come.  The 
chains  on  his  arms  were  taken  off  while  those  on  his 
legs  remained,  so  impatient  was  he  to  meet  the  one 
who  came  to  bring  him  life.  Colvin  gazed  upon  the 
chains  and  asked,  'What  is  that  for,  Stephen?'  The 
latter  answered,  'Because  they  say  I  murdered  you.' 
Russel  replied,  'You  never  hurt  me!' r 

There  is  no  occasion  for  pursuing  the  narrative  of 
the  excellent  clergyman.  I  regard  it  as  one  of  the 
most  interesting  in  the  annals  of  crime.  The  rever 
end  author  published  it  in  the  year  1820  as  an  ap 
pendix  to  his  sermon  entitled  "  The  Prisoner  Released. 
A  sermon  delivered  at  Manchester,  Vt.,  Lord's  day, 
January  9th,  1820,  on  the  remarkable  interposition 
of  Divine  Providence  in  the  deliverance  of  Stephen 
and  Jesse  Boorn,  who  had  been  under  sentence  of 
death  for  the  supposed  murder  of  Russel  Colvin." 

The  important  difference  between  the  Boorn  case 
and  the  case  now  attracting  attention  is  obvious. 
In  the  first  what  is  termed  in  the  law  "  the  corpus 
delicti, "  the  fact  of  the  murder,  was  assumed ;  in  the 
second  case  it  is  proved.  But  when  the  public  is  in 
formed  that  the  gravest  suspicions  against  the  ac 
cused  rest  upon  her  contradictory  statements,  we 
must  be  permitted  to  say  that  such  statements  are 
very  unreliable,  that  the  Boorn  case  shows  how  worth 
less  they  are  when  they  rise  to  the  dignity  of  com 
plete  confession  of  guilt.  That  they  are  contradic 
tory  proves  that  they  are  unstudied  and  ought  to  be 


THE  BOORN  CASE.  339 

regarded  as  an  indication  of  innocence  rather  than 
as  an  evidence  of  criminality. 

Notwithstanding  the  numerous  and  excellent  max 
ims  of  criminal  law  the  observance  of  which  is  sup 
posed  to  insure  the  protection  of  innocent  persons 
charged  with  the  crime  of  murder,  such  innocent 
persons  have  been  convicted  and  executed.  Such  an 
event  as  the  taking  of  a  human  life  to  avenge  a  crime 
not  committed  is  shocking  to  the  moral  sense.  It 
will  never  again  happen  if  judges  will  require  posi 
tive  proof  of  the  corpus  delicti,  and  after  the  crime  is 
absolutely  proved  will  follow  the  rule  of  law  which  dis 
regards  circumstances  consistent  with  any  hypoth 
esis  of  innocence,  and  admits  in  evidence  only  those 
which  are  inconsistent  with  any  theory  except  that 
of  the  guilt  of  the  person  charged  with  the  crime. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN:  A  STUDY — His  ORIGIN  AND 
EARLY  LIFE. 

I  SHALL  undertake  to  write  a  sketch  of  Abraham 
Lincoln  as  he  was  known  by  me;  to  outline  his  por 
trait  as  it  exists  in  my  memory.  From  his  first  in 
auguration  I  can  write  from  personal  knowledge.  His 
earlier  life  I  must  sketch  from  such  materials  as  I 
have  been  able  to  collect  from  sources  which  I  regard 
as  authentic. 

The  Lincoln  of  my  memory  is  a  most  attractive 
character  and  will  form  an  instructive  study  for 
future  generations.  It  is  a  subject  for  which  my 
respect  and  my  love  increases  with  my  years.  If 
my  outline  shall  attract  the  attention  of  the  reader 
so  that  he  shall  fill  it  with  all  the  facts  and  circum 
stances  which  may  afterward  fall  under  his  notice, 
my  whole  object  will  be  attained  and  I  shall  have 
discharged  a  duty  to  the  memory  of  the  man  I  loved. 

I  am'  not  about  to  attempt  another  biography  of 
Abraham  Lincoln.  I  might  do  so  without  apology, 
for  anything  new  and  authentic  concerning  him  will 
be  welcomed  by  the  American  people.  The  number 
of  those  who  can  write  of  him  from  personal  knowl 
edge  is  rapidly  diminishing ;  until  for  every  good  life 
of  Washington  there  is  an  equally  good  one  of  Lin 
coln,  there  is  little  danger  that  the  subject  will  be 

exhausted. 

340 


LIVES  OF  WASHINGTON.  341 

It  would  be  well  indeed  for  the  youth  of  our  time 
if  they  were  as  familiar  with  the  facts  of  President 
Lincoln's  life  as  their  ancestors  of  the  early  years 
of  the  present  century  were  with  those  of  the  life  of 
Washington.  Lives  of  Washington  were  published 
in  country  towns  and  exchanged  by  travelling  ped 
dlers  for  anything  the  farmer  had  to  sell.  Young 
orators  in  the  district  schools  spoke  their  pieces  from 
these  books ;  they  were  read  aloud  in  the  family  by 
the  firelight.  The  name  of  Washington  was  vener 
ated  because  his  services  were  known. 

I  can  read  from  my  own  memory  words  written 
upon  it  before  I  was  eight  years  old :  "  In  the  His 
tory  of  Man  we  contemplate  with  particular  satisfac 
tion  those  Legislators,  Heroes  and  Philosophers  whose 
Wisdom,  Valor  and  Virtue  have  contributed  to  the 
Happiness  of  the  Human  Species.  We  trace  the 
Luminous  Progress  of  those  Excellent  Beings  with 
Secret  Complacency.  Our  Emulation  is  roused  while 
we  behold  them  steadily  pursue  the  Path  of  Rectitude 
in  defiance  of  every  Obstruction.  We  rejoice  that 
we  were  of  the  same  Species  and  thus  Self-love  be 
comes  the  Handmaid  of  Virtue."  Such,  capitals  in 
cluded,  are  the  introductory  observations  to  "Bio 
graphical  Memoirs  of  the  Illustrious  Gen.  George 
Washington,"  a  book  of  one  hundred  and  sixty  pages, 
24mo,  published  in  1813,  in  the  mountain  hamlet  of 
Barnard,  Vt.,  by  Joseph  Dix.  It  was  published 
elsewhere  many  times.  The  volume  is  not  much 
larger  than  the  "New  England  Primer,"  which  it 
resembles.  It  has  done  more  to  disseminate  the 
knowledge  of  the  great  events  in  the  life  of  "  The 
Father  of  his  Country  "  than  the  more  pretentious 
volumes  of  John  Marshall  and  Washington  Irving. 


342  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

The  lives  of  Abraham  Lincoln  already  published 
comprise  all  kinds,  from  the  fairly  good  to  those  which 
are  untruthful  and  misleading.  The  great  work  of 
Hay  and  Nicolay  will  always  be  indispensable  to  the 
student  of  that  most  important  chapter  of  our  history 
covered  by  his  administration.  But  their  volumes 
are  rather  a  mine  of  materials  than  a  deduction  of 
facts,  and  require  a  more  careful  digest.  The  smaller 
life  by  Mr.  Arnold  is  a  charming  biography,  true  as 
to  its  statements  of  fact.  But  Mr.  Arnold  was  the 
associate  and  friend  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  How  dearly  he 
loved  him  his  book  discloses.  The  charm  imparted 
to  his  pen  by  his  affection  is  very  delightful,  but 
it  sometimes  leads  one  to  distrust  his  impartiality. 

Other  lives  of  Lincoln  may  be  passed  without  com 
ment.  He  is  an  inadequate  biographer  tof  a  great 
man  who  charges  his  mature  age  with  the  errors  of 
his  youth  or  is  unable  to  appreciate  his  intellectual 
growth.  No  amount  of  protest  will  convince  the 
impartial  reader  that  the  most  reliable  biographers 
of  a  public  man  are  those  who  have  abandoned  his 
party  and  his  principles  and  gone  over  into  the  camp 
of  the  enemy. 

The  writers  who  are  responsible  for  the  most  er 
roneous  views  of  the  character  of  Abraham  Lincoln 
are  those  who  assert  that  he  had  a  special  pride  in 
his  humble  origin  and  the  poverty  which  repressed 
his  early  growth,  and  that  he  delighted  in  low  and 
vulgar  anecdote.  Their  ignorance  is  pitiable,  inex 
cusable.  He  inherited  a  desponding  temperament ; 
his  childhood  except  for  his  mother  would  have  been 
cheerless;  that  mother  died  and  left  him  desolate. 
There  was  little  enough  of  sunshine  in  his  youth. 
Up  to  the  age  of  twenty-two  his  life  had  been  a  con- 


ANCESTORS  OF   LINCOLN.  343 

stant  struggle  against  privation  and  poverty;  he 
failed  in  every  undertaking.  His  surveying  instru 
ments  were  sold  by  the  sheriff  on  an  execution  for 
debt.  He  loved  with  all  the  intensity  of  his  soul,  and 
his  love  was  returned  by  one  who  might  have  flooded 
his  life  with  sunshine.  She  was  stricken  and  died. 
He  would  not  have  been  human  if  he  had  not  become 
sad  and  melancholy.  Despondency  became  almost 
his  second  nature.  Great  responsibilities  were  cast 
upon  him  which  he  would  not  evade,  which  he  dis 
charged  with  the  most  scrupulous  fidelity.  Where 
weaker  men  would  have  drowned  their  cares  in  dis 
sipation,  he  sought  a  momentary  escape  from  them 
in  a  humorous  book  or  a  sparkling  story.  That  any 
form  of  vulgarity  had  any  attraction  for  him,  that 
he  was  proud  of  the  poverty  of  his  birth  or  early  life, 
are  statements  never  imposed  upon  any  one  who  knew 
Abraham  Lincoln. 

His  many-sided  character  cannot  be  estimated  by 
ordinary  rules.  Men  have  usually  attained  eminence 
by  the  gradual  development  of  qualities,  sometimes 
promoted  by  advantages  of  position,  the  assistance 
of  friends,  and  association  with  other  men.  Mr.  Lin 
coln  pre-eminently  made  himself,  by  intense  thought, 
application,  and  good  judgment.  His  intellectual 
growth  was  phenomenal.  He  reached  celebrity  al 
most  at  a  bound.  In  the  short  space  of  six  years  the 
country  attorney  became  the  emancipator  of  a  race, 
the  preserver  of  the  Republic,  the  greatest  of  Presi 
dents,  the  foremost  man  of  all  his  time.  That  study 
can  scarcely  fail  to  be  profitable  which  gives  us  any 
better  comprehension  of  such  a  character. 


344  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

The  ancestors  of  Abraham  Lincoln  were  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  blood,  enriched  by  years  of  New  England  cul 
ture  which  produced  a  stalwart  race  of  men  who 
had  for  several  generations  followed  westward  the  ad 
vancing  frontier.  They  had  driven  the  Indians  from 
the  "dark  and  bloody  ground,"  and,  companions  of 
Boone  and  the  hunters  of  Kentucky,  were  clearing 
away  the  forests  and  planting  the  settlements  which 
have  since  grown  into  great  interior  commonwealths. 

Thomas  Lincoln  was  an  average  representative  of 
those  early  settlers.  A  boy  of  six  years,  he  had  seen 
his  father  shot  dead  by  an  Indian,  whose  triumphant 
yell  was  changed  to  a  death-scream  as  his  heart  was 
pierced  by  a  bullet  from  the  rifle  of  the  boy's  brother. 
In  such  tragic  scenes  the  Kentucky  widow  could  give 
her  son  no  education.  Thomas  grew  to  manhood  a 
muscular,  resolute,  ignorant  man,  rough  in  speech  but 
possessed  of  a  kind  and  sympathetic  heart.  He  was  the 
protector  of  his  widowed  mother  until  he  was  twenty- 
eight  years  old.  Then  in  the  year  1806  he  was  mar 
ried  to  Nancy  Hanks.  She  was  a  Virginian  by  birth, 
but  her  blood  like  her  name  was  English  with  a  strong 
infusion  from  the  veins  of  the  New  England  Puritan. 
It  is  difficult  to  write  of  the  mother  of  our  great  Lin 
coln  without  emotion.  She  was  a  beauty,  forest-born, 
slight  in  person,  a  brunette  with  dark  hair,  soft 
hazel  eyes,  and  a  very  musical  voice.  She  was  a 
woman  of  rare  intellectual  endowments,  a  strong 
will,  and  a  most  exemplary  Christian  character.  In 
the  ignorance  and  poverty  of  the  infant  settlement 
she  had  educated  herself  in  all  the  duties  of  a  fron 
tier  wife.  A  good  old  itinerant  preacher  had  taught 
her  to  read  and  write  and  to  draw  comfort  and  in 
spiration  from  the  Book  of  Books.  Instructed  by 


LINCOLN'S  MOTHER.  345 

him  at  the  age  of  twenty-three,  she  was  a  Dorcas 
full  of  good  works  and  alms-deeds  which  she  did. 

Thomas  Lincoln  had  no  capacity  for  the  accumu 
lation  of  property  and  was  infected  with  the  nomadic 
spirit  of  the  emigrant.  In  the  forest  of  Hard  in 
County,  Ky.,  he  built  a  log-cabin  and  thither  carried 
his  faithful  wife  with  her  slender  outfit.  There,  on 
the  12th  day  of  February,  1809,  Abraham,  their 
second  child,  was  born.  Even  in  that  woodland  soli 
tude,  where  neighbors  were  few  and  scattered,  Nancy 
Lincoln  soon  became  celebrated.  She  taught  other 
wives  how  to  nurse  the  sick  and  to  make  their  homes 
attractive  to  their  husbands.  Her  log-cabin  was 
no  longer  a  cheerless,  barn-like  structure.  Flowers 
blossomed  around  it,  honeysuckles  and  vines  climbed 
over  it,  and  song-birds  built  their  nests  in  its  recesses. 
She  was  a  model  of  wifely  industry.  No  duty  of  the 
household  was  neglected.  She  had  already  taught 
her  husband  how  to  read  and  write,  and  had  brought 
his  rather  coarse  nature  under  her  gentle,  refining  in 
fluence.  With  the  birth  of  children  a  new  sense  of 
religious  duty  pervaded  her  soul.  Her  boy  must 
know  how  to  read  and  must  be  instructed  in  the  Word 
of  God.  She  gave  him  a  daily  lesson,  while  she  was 
watched  by  an  affectionate  husband  proud  of  his 
home,  his  wife,  and  his  boy. 

This  family  circle  was  too  happy  to  remain  long 
unbroken.  When  her  son  was  nine  years  old,  Nancy 
Lincoln  sickened  and  died,  at  the  early  age  of  thirty- 
five.  Other  boys  in  solitary  homes  who  have  loved 
and  lost  their  mothers  will  know  by  their  own  expe 
rience  how  desolate  the  life  of  young  Lincoln  was 
when  his  mother  went  out  of  it.  What  kindly  heart 
will  not  beat  more  tenderly  over  the  first  recorded  act 


346  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

of  his  life?  The  kind  hands  of  neighbors  had  laid 
the  mother  to  rest  in  her  forest  grave,  with  many 
tears  but  without  a  blessing  or  a  prayer;  for  the 
nearest  minister  lived  a  hundred  miles  away.  It 
grieved  the  heart  of  her  son  that  this  must  be.  And 
so  it  comes  to  pass  that  our  first  view  of  the  mother 
less  boy  shows  him  in  the  act  of  making  use,  perhaps 
for  the  first  time,  of  the  art  which  his  mother  had 
taught  him,  in  writing  a  letter  to  the  travelling 
preacher  whom  she  had  known  and  esteemed,  begging 
him  to  come  and  preach  a  sermon  at  her  grave. 
Weeks  later,  riding  a  hundred  miles  through  the 
pathless  woods  on  horseback  to  reach  the  place,  the 
preacher  came.  The  father,  daughter,  and  son,  with 
the  neighbors  far  and  near,  gathered  in  one  of  "God's 
first  temples,"  and  there  beneath  a  spreading  sycamore 
the  preacher  told  the  story  and  enforced  the  lesson 
of  the  pure  and  gentle  life  of  Nancy  Lincoln.  It 
was  not  strange  that  true  heart  loved  her  until  his 
dying  day ;  that  sitting  in  the  Executive  Mansion  he 
should  have  said,  "  All  that  I  am  or  hope  to  be  I  owe 
to  my  mother,"  or  that  when  in  his  presence  one 
spoke  of  strong  sympathy  with  sorrow  as  a  charac 
teristic  of  the  poor  among  the  mountains,  he  replied, 
"  I  know  from  my  own  experience  that  it  is  just  as 
strong  in  the  forest  and  on  the  prairie." 

It  was  from  his  father  that  Abraham  Lincoln  de 
rived  his  lofty  stature,  giant  frame,  iron  muscles,  and 
elastic  step,  his  long,  sinewy  arms  and  mighty 
strength.  His  mother  gave  him  his  temperament, 
melancholy  yet  not  morose,  his  reverence  for  the 
word  and  works  of  God,  and  his  sensitive  conscience. 
The  union  of  unlike  parental  forces  invested  him  with 
a  courage  that  knew  no  fear  and  a  heart  capacious 


LINCLON'S  BOOKS'.  347 

enough  for  the  sorrows  of  a  race.  His  receptive  na 
ture,  shut  up  in  forest  solitudes,  was  developed  by  as 
sociation  with  men  until  it  was  filled  with  a  human 
sympathy  which  made  him  a  popular  leader  and 
bound  other  men  to  him  with  hooks  of  steel.  His 
lofty  integrity,  love  of  justice,  and  hatred  for  all 
forms  of  tyranny  and  cruelty  had  the  same  origin. 

By  a  second  marriage,  when  his  son  was  eleven 
years  old,  his  father  brought  to  his  cabin  another 
noble  woman.  She  was  a  widow  with  three  children, 
but  with  true  impartiality  she  became  for  the  son  of 
Nancy  Lincoln  a  second  devoted  mother.  How  well 
he  loved  her  was  proved  by  the  last  visit  he  made  be 
fore  leaving  Springfield  for  Washington,  in  February, 
1861.  It  was  paid  to  her.  She  was  seized  with  the 
spirit  of  prophecy.  She  embraced  and  kissed  him, 
predicted  his  death  by  violence,  and  said  that  in  this 
world  she  should  never  see  him  again. 

It  has  been  written  by  his  biographers  that  the 
only  books  accessible  to  Lincoln  in  his  youth  were 
the  Bible,  "The  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  "The  Poems 
of  Burns,"  and  "  Weems'  Life  of  Washington."  No 
youth  suffers  any  deprivation  who  has  access  to  these 
volumes.  Their  influence  upon  young  Lincoln  was 
apparent  in  all  his  after-life.  Except  the  instruc 
tions  of  his  mother,  the  Bible  more  powerfully  con 
trolled  the  intellectual  development  of  the  son  than 
all  other  causes  combined.  He  memorized  many  of 
its  chapters  and  had  them  perfectly  at  his  command. 
Early  in  his  professional  life  he  learned  that  the  most 
useful  of  all  books  to  the  public  speaker  is  the 
Bible.  After  1857  he  seldom  made  a  speech  which 
did  not  comprise  quotations  from  the  Bible.  The 
poems  of  the  Ayrshire  ploughman  developed  his 


348  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

poetic  fancy,  Bunyan's  immortal  dream  taught  him 
the  force  of  figurative  language,  and  the  simple  story 
of  Parson  Weems  made  him  familiar  with  the  noble 
qualities  of  Washington.  In  the  poverty  of  his  early 
life  there  were  many  deprivations,  but  the  want  of 
good  books  was  not  one  of  them. 

The  step-mother  and  the  father  encouraged  their 
son  to  make  use  of  every  opportunity  to  learn.  One 
of  his  teachers  remembers  him  as  his  most  eager  and 
diligent  scholar,  arrayed  in  a  buckskin  suit  with  a 
cap  made  from  the  skin  of  a  raccoon,  coming  with  a 
worn-out  arithmetic  in  his  hands  to  begin  his  stud 
ies  in  the  higher  branches.  But  all  the  exertions  of 
his  parents  could  not  give  him  a  school  attendance 
in  all  of  more  than  a  single  year. 

There  are  stories  of  his  school  life  which  gave 
promise  of  his  future  eminence.  He  was  slow  to 
anger ;  personal  insult  or  ridicule  could  not  provoke 
him,  but  no  brute  who  attacked  a  weaker  boy  was 
safe  from  his  punishment.  Once  he  came  upon  six 
boys,  each  older  than  himself,  who  were  drowning  a 
kitten.  He  bounded  upon  them  like  a  panther,  and 
one  after  another  the  six  went  down  under  his  blows. 
Then  he  released  and  fondled  the  poor  kitten,  and 
cried  over  it  like  a  girl.  He  was  ambitious  to  win  a 
prize  in  a  spelling-match.  A  poor  girl  was  his  only 
dangerous  competitor.  She  hesitated  over  a  letter 
which  had  she  missed  would  have  given  the  prize  to 
Lincoln.  Instantly  he  framed  his  lips  into  the  form 
of  the  right  letter;  the  blushing  girl  won  the  prize 
and  the  defeated  boy  was  happy. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  (CONTINUED) — His  FAILURES — 
THE  FARM  LABORER — THE  FLAT-BOATMAN— 
THE  FIGHTER — THE  MERCHANT — THE  SUR 
VEYOR. 

THE  temptation  is  strong  to  linger  over  many  of 
the  incidents  of  his  youth,  but  I  must  touch  only 
upon  those  which  perceptively  influenced  his  career. 
At  the  age  of  nineteen  he  made  a  voyage  to  New 
Orleans  on  a  flat-boat.  Himself  and  the  son  of  his 
employer  constituted  the  officers  and  crew.  On  the 
voyage  they  were  attacked  by  seven  negroes  who  in 
tended  to  capture  the  valuable  cargo.  Spurning  all 
but  the  arms  which  nature  had  given  him,  Lincoln 
whipped  the  whole  attacking  party. 

In  New  Orleans  an  event  occurred  which  has  been 
much  distorted  in  many  Lincoln  biographies.  He 
there  attended  a  slave  auction  and  saw  a  picture, 
never  in  this  republic  to  be  exhibited  again.  It  was 
a  young  colored  woman  who  stood  on  the  auction 
block  to  be  sold.  Her  limbs  and  bosom  were  bare. 
Traders  in  human  flesh  felt  the  density  of  her  mus 
cles  as  if  she  had  been  a  quadruped.  No  doubt  the 
young  Kentuckian  was  disgusted,  but  there  is  no 
proof  that  this  was  his  first  object-lesson  in  human 
slavery,  or  that,  as  so  often  has  been  asserted,  he 
turned  to  his  companion  and  said,  "  If  I  ever  get  a 
chance  to  hit  slavery,  I  will  hit  it  hard."  Such  an 

349 


350  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

expression  from  a  flat-boatman  would  have  been  ab 
surd.  In  its  proper  place  I  will  give  what  his  inti 
mate  friends  suppose  was  the  exhibition  which  con 
verted  him  from  an  indifferent  spectator  of  its  horrors 
into  a  firm  advocate  of  the  abolition  of  slavery. 

Nor  am  I  able  to  find  any  proof  of  another  event, 
by  many  supposed  to  have  occurred  about  this 
time.  It  has  been  said  that  his  fortune  was  told  by 
a  Voudoo  woman,  who  said  he  was  divinely  commis 
sioned  to  destroy  slavery,  which  would  cease  to  exist 
within  a  few  years  after  he  became  President.  I  have 
never  met  with  any  reliable  evidence  in  support  of 
this  statement. 

After  a  second  and  uneventful  voyage  to  New  Or 
leans  he  assisted  his  father,  who  now  removed  a  third 
time,  to  build  a  new  log-cabin  and  to  clear  and  fence 
another  farm.  This  was  in  the  year  1831,  when,  if 
ever,  he  earned  the  title  of  "  The  Railsplitter."  For 
the  benefit  of  those  who  have  written  and  who  believe 
that  Mr.  Lincoln  was  proud  of  and  frequently  ad 
verted  to  this  title  as  evidence  of  his  humble  origin, 
it  is  proper  to  say  that  the  story  has  so  slight  a  basis 
of  truth  that  it  might  almost  be  called  apocryphal. 
I  do  not  find  that  he  ever  referred  to  it  but  once.  At 
the  State  Convention  in  1860,  where  he  was  to  speak, 
two  rails,  adorned  with  banners  and  preceded  by 
music,  were  brought  into  the  hall.  The  declaration 
of  the  bearers  that  they  were  genuine  created  a  wild 
enthusiasm.  The  statement  that  they  were  split  by 
the  hand  of  Lincoln  made  some  reference  to  them 
necessary.  It  was  made  by  Mr.  Lincoln  in  these 
modest  terms : 

"Fellow-citizens!  It  is  true  that  many,  many 
years  ago  John  Hanks  and  I  made  rails  down  on  the 


LINCOLN  A  COUNTRY  MERCHANT.  351 

Sangamon.  We  made  good,  honest  rails,  but 
whether  this  is  one  of  them,  at  this  distance  of  time 
I  am  not  able  to  say." 

At  the  age  of  twenty-two  Abraham  Lincoln  had 
no  trade  or  occupation.  He  had  tried  several  experi 
ments,  all  of  which  were  failures.  He  had  been  a 
farm  hand,  a  ferryman,  a  flat-boatman.  Then  for 
a  few  months  he  was  clerk  in  a  country  store  and  a 
superintendent  of  a  flouring  mill.  He  enlisted  in 
the  Black  Hawk  war,  and  his  election  as  captain  of 
his  company  gave  him  the  supreme  pleasure  of  his 
life.  The  war  was  a  short  one.  He  purchased  and 
operated  the  county  store.  In  this  business  he  failed 
and  was  sold  out  by  the  sheriff.  Then  he  studied 
surveying  and  became  a  land  surveyor.  In  this  oc 
cupation  he  did  not  succeed.  His  failure  must  have 
been  complete,  for  his  horse,  his  compass,  and  his  in 
struments  were  sold  upon  an  execution  by  the  sheriff. 
One  Bolin  Greene,  almost  a  stranger,  purchased  and 
sent  his  horse,  compass,  and  instruments  to  him  with 
a  kindly  message  to  "  pay  for  them  when  he  was  able." 

Incidents  are  related  of  what  may  be  called  the 
experimental  period  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  life  which  de 
serve  to  be  recorded.  It  was  while  he  was  doing 
business  as  a  merchant  that  a  farmer's  wife  made 
purchases  from  him  which  required  weighing  and 
computation.  She  had  departed  for  her  home  some 
miles  away  when,  upon  a  revision  of  the  transaction, 
Lincoln  became  satisfied  that  he  had  overcharged  his 
customer  some  thirty  cents.  Some  merchants  would 
have  waited  until  the  customer  complained  before 
reopening  the  transaction.  Not  so  Abraham  Lin 
coln.  He  walked  the  four  miles,  corrected  the  error, 
and  then  with  a  clear  conscience  went  about  his  busi- 


352  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

ness.  A  new  post-office  was  established  and  he  was 
appointed  postmaster.  The  income  was  so  insignifi 
cant  that  he  was  not  called  on  to  pay  the  amount  due 
to  the  Government  until  some  years  later  when  he  was 
established  as  a  lawyer  in  Springfield.  A  friend,  who 
thought  it  would  be  inconvenient  for  him  to  pay  the 
money  on  so  short  a  notice,  went  to  him  with  an 
offer  to  advance  it.  To  his  friend's  surprise  Mr. 
Lincoln  produced  from  the  drawer  of  his  desk  a 
package  containing  the  identical  coins  to  which  the 
department  was  entitled.  He  had  been  very  poor 
during  the  intervening  years,  but  never  poor  enough 
to  use  one  penny  of  the  money  which  belonged  to  the 
United  States. 

We  now  touch  the  turning-point  in  Mr.  Lincoln's 
career.  The  age  of  twenty-five  is  given  by  his 
biographer  Mr.  Arnold  as  the  end  of  the  unsuc 
cessful  portion  of  his  life.  Before  this  time  he  had 
failed  in  everything  he  had  undertaken.  But  his 
life  had  not  been  altogether  wasted.  By  the  inflexi 
ble  integrity  of  all  his  dealings  he  had  fairly  earned 
the  name  of  "  Honest  Abe  Lincoln. "  He  had  learned 
how  to  be  thorough.  His  studies  of  grammar  and 
logic  were  eventually  to  make  him  a  celebrity  in 
the  world  of  letters.  Much  of  his  hard  work  in  the 
past  was  to  become  invaluable  to  him  when,  as  his 
friends  declared,  his  "  luck  had  turned"  and  he  began 
to  travel  the  highway  of  success. 

An  incident  which  exerted  a  powerful  influence 
upon  his  professional  success  will  close  our  sketch  of 
the  unsuccessful  period  of  Abraham  Lincoln's  career. 
He  was  not  a  fighting  man.  But  in  those  days  a 
man  of  his  stature  would  have  been  deemed  a  coward 
if  he  was  not  able  to  defend  himself.  He  was  the 


LINCOLN'S  CONTEST  WITH  ARMSTRONG.       353 

tallest  and  the  strongest  man  in  the  township  and  he 
necessarily  became  the  champion  of  New  Salem. 
The  nearest  village  had  the  name  of  Clary's  Grove. 
This  village  had  a  champion,  a  good-natured  giant 
of  a  fellow,  by  name  John  Armstrong. 

The  betting  and  bragging  of  the  two  villages  over 
the  merits  of  their  respective  champions  had  made 
it  apparent  that  nothing  but  a  fair,  square  fight  would 
determine  which  was  the  better  man.  Personally 
the  champions  did  not  wish  to  fight,  but  the  honor  of 
their  respective  villages  was  involved  and  the  con 
test  became  inevitable.  The  combatants  did  not  go 
into  training  like  the  athletes  of  the  modern  science 
of  self-defence,  but  the  excitement  ran  high  and  the 
villages  backed  their  respective  favorites  with  money 
as  well  as  their  clamorous  opinions.  Neutral  ground 
was  selected  and  the  day  named  for  the  fight.  It 
came  off  in  the  presence  of  a  great  multitude,  com 
prising  the  entire  male  population  of  the  two  villages. 
It  was  to  be  a  rough-and-tumble  combat,  in  which  the 
first  man  who  should  "  down"  his  adversary  was  to 
be  the  victor.  There  was  but  one  rule.  It  was  "  no 
grasping  or  hitting  below  the  belt,  no  weapons  but 
those  of  nature." 

In  the  first  round  Armstrong  grasped  the  body  of 
his  adversary  and  converted  the  contest  into  a  wres 
tling-match,  in  which  he  was  supposed  to  be  invinci 
ble.  Lincoln  appeared  to  be  dazed  and  to  give  his 
whole  strength  to  an  effort  to  maintain  his  upright 
position.  Armstrong  put  forth  all  his  strength;  he 
moved  him  from  right  to  left,  forward  and  back 
ward,  tried  very  hard  to  trip  him,  but  all  his  strug 
gles  were  useless.  The  tall  figure  of  Lincoln  was 
moved  in  every  direction,  but  he  stood  upright  as 
23 


354  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

sturdy  as  an  oak.  The  partisans  of  Armstrong  yelled 
to  him  to  make  a  rush,  to  down  him  before  he  could 
recover  so  as  to  make  any  attack.  But  he  could  not 
make  any  impression.  Conscious  of  failure  and  over 
whelmed  by  the  clamor  of  his  partisans,  he  grasped 
Lincoln  far  below  the  hips  by  what  every  one  recog 
nized  as  a  foul  attack.  Even  then  he  could  not  move 
him.  Lincoln  protested  against  the  unfairness,  but 
his  protest  was  disregarded.  Then  for  the  first  time 
he  seemed  to  put  forth  his  strength.  His  right  arm 
shot  out,  his  hand  grappled  Armstrong  by  the  throat, 
broke  his  hold,  and  at  the  end  of  his  extended  arm 
shook  him  like  a  rat  in  the  jaws  of  a  terrier.  The 
Clary's  Grove  boys  saw  that  their  champion  was  beat 
en,  and  attempted  to  break  into  the  ring  to  assist 
him.  But  honest  Jack,  in  spite  of  the  grasp  on  his 
throat, shouted  "No!  Abe  Lincoln  has  whipped  me, 
fair  and  square !  He  is  the  best  man  that  ever  broke 
into  this  settlement,  and  if  he  will  let  up  on  me,  the 
man  that  wants  to  whip  him  has  first  got  to  whip 
Armstrong. "  This  manly  expression  ended  the  fight, 
to  the  satisfaction  of  both  parties. 

After  this  fight  Lincoln  never  wanted  a  home. 
The  energetic  wife  of  Armstrong  became  his  good 
angel ;  the  children  climbed  upon  his  knees  and  kissed 
the  sadness  away  from  his  melancholy  face.  I  have 
sometimes  thought  that  the  fight  with  Armstrong 
may  have  been  the  turning-point  in  his  career  and 
that  his  success  in  life  dates  from  its  conclusion. 
At  this  time  he  was  a  vigorous  man  of  about  twenty- 
three  years,  not  discouraged  by  his  previous  failures, 
although  he  was  loaded  with  the  debts  he  had  in 
curred  as  a  country  merchant  and  a  surveyor. 

At  the  age  of  twenty-three  he  advocated  the  elec- 


END   OF  LINCOLN'S  FAILURES.  355 

tion  to  the  presidency  of  Henry  Clay.  He  then  served 
through  the  Black  Hawk  war,  was  nominated  for 
the  legislature  and  defeated.  At  the  age  of  twenty- 
five  he  was  again  nominated  and  this  time  he  was 
elected.  He  was  re-elected  in  1836,  1838,  and  1840, 
and  in  the  last  year  was  the  candidate  of  his  party 
for  speaker.  In  the  spring  of  1837,  having  been  ad 
mitted  to  the  bar,  he  opened  an  office  in  Springfield 
with  John  T.  Stuart  as  his  partner,  and  notwithstand 
ing  the  successful  campaign  in  1840  of  "Tippecanoe 
and  Tyler  too,"  at  its  close  he  determined  to  withdraw 
from  politics  and  devote  himself  to  the  practice  of 
the  law.  We  may  therefore  fix  upon  the  year  1840 
as  the  end  of  his  mistakes  and  misfortunes,  though 
his  real  successes  began  at  a  somewhat  earlier  period. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  (CONTINUED) — His  SUCCESSES 
-THE  LAWYER— THE  ADVOCATE — THE  POPU 
LAR  MAN. 

THE  conspicuous  element  in  the  character  of  Mr. 
Lincoln  was  its  intensity.  The  counsel  of  the 
preacher  appears  to  have  controlled  his  life.  "  What 
soever  thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might," 
was  for  him  not  only  a  counsel,  but  a  command.  He 
studied  grammar  by  committing  the  book  to  memory. 
A  treatise  on  land-surveying  fell  into  his  hands  by 
accident ;  it  made  him  a  surveyor.  That  he  might 
be  certain  of  the  meaning  of  the  word  "  demonstra 
tion,"  he  solved  the  problems  of  Euclid.  Although 
this  intensity  was  the  cause  of  much  of  his  own  un- 
happiness,  we  shall  find  in  his  later  years  that  the 
English-speaking  world  is  indebted  to  it  for  some  of 
the  gems  of  the  language. 

It  is  said  of  him  that  he  loved  Ann  Rutledge  with 
all  the  capacity  of  his  soul,  and  that  she  was  worthy 
of  such  a  mighty  love.  She  possessed  personal 
beauty,  and  what  was  of  greater  value  to  the  rising 
lawyer,  a  calm,  equable  temper  and  excellent  judg 
ment.  She  appreciated  Lincoln  and  returned  his 
love.  How  far  her  refining  influence  would  have 
modified  the  impetuosity  of  his  character,  we  can  only 
imagine.  It  seemed  for  a  time  that  the  course  of 
their  love  did  run  smooth.  With  the  approval  of  all 

356 


LINCOLN  A  LAWYER.  357 

their  friends,  who  saw  how  well  they  were  suited  to 
each  other,  they  were  about  to  be  married,  when 
after  a  very  short  illness  she  died.  His  grief  foi  a 
time  was  uncontrollable.  A  tempest  seemed  to  be 
raging  within  him.  He  sank  into  a  kind  of  torpor 
from  which  it  was  difficult  and  dangerous  to  awake 
him.  His  friends  feared  for  his  sanity  and  his  life. 
He  rebelled  against  the  injustice  of  the  fate  which 
had  robbed  him  of  a  treasure  which  he  valued  more 
than  life.  Expressions  which  fell  from  him  under 
the  influence  of  this  affliction  have  been  treasured  up 
in  some  memories  and  produced  after  his  death  as 
evidence  of  his  disbelief  in  the  Bible  and  his  rejec 
tion  of  all  the  doctrines  of  Christianity. 

Without  capital  or  influential  friends ;  impatient  of 
a  personal  obligation  which  he  could  not  discharge ; 
burdened  with  debts  incurred  during  his  brief  career 
as  a  merchant,  he  now  came  to  the  young  city  of 
Springfield  to  try  his  fortune  in  the  profession  of  the 
law.  He  created  the  conditions  of  his  own  success. 
An  honest  lawyer  is  a  desirable  member  of  any  com 
munity.  The  rugged  integrity  which  had  already 
given  him  a  name  speedily  brought  him  clients,  who 
knew  that  instead  of  promoting  litigation  he  was  a 
minister  of  peace  who  could  be  relied  upon  to  give 
them  good  advice.  In  a  new  country,  the  ability  to 
tell  a  good  story  goes  far  to  secure  what  is  called 
popularity.  He  cultivated  his  natural  powers  to  this 
end,  for  the  double  purpose  of  diverting  his  hearers 
and  occupying  his  own  thoughts,  until  it  made  him 
celebrated.  His  popularity  was  as  wide  as  his  ac 
quaintance.  He  had  no  rivals  in  his  profession. 
Its  members  are  quick  to  discover  and  appreciate  one 
who  is  always  just  and  honorable  in  his  relations 


358  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

with  them.  He  would  not  undertake  an  unjust  cause. 
When  he  discovered  that  his  client  had  deceived 
him  he  did  not  hesitate  to  abandon  his  case  in  open 
court.  He  was  once  prosecuting  a  claim  for  goods 
sold.  He  had  proved  every  item  by  his  own  client, 
when,  to  his  amazement,  his  adversary  produced  the 
written  receipt  of  his  client  showing  that  every  item 
had  been  paid  for.  He  cross-examined  the  defendant 
far  enough  to  make  it  clear  that  no  explanation  was 
possible,  and  then  deliberately  walked  out  of  the 
court-room  and  over  to  the  hotel.  The  judge,  sup 
posing  that  he  had  been  called  from  the  court  for 
some  purpose,  sent  a  messenger  for  him  to  tell  him 
that  the  court  could  not  wait  for  him  longer.  "  Tell 
his  Honor  that  I  cannot  come,"  was  the  answer  of 
the  indignant  lawyer ;  "  my  hands  are  dirty  and  I  am 
washing  them." 

The  most  dramatic  scene  in  his  professional  life, 
in  which  the  advocate  appears  to  the  best  advantage, 
was  a  trial  for  murder  in  which  he  showed  his  grati 
tude  to  the  wife  of  Jack  Armstrong.  Armstrong 
was  dead.  His  son,  a  young  man  of  twenty,  im 
patient  of  his  mother's  restraint  and  easily  in 
fluenced  in  the  wrong  direction,  had  become  asso 
ciated  with  a  party  of  reckless  young  men,  the  leader 
of  whom  was  a  vicious  and  dangerous  criminal.  This 
leader  had  provoked  a  fight  in  the  night  at  a  camp- 
meeting,  in  which  one  of  the  opposing  party  had  been 
killed  by  a  blow  from  a  slung-shot  or  some  similar 
weapon,  which  was  found  at  the  place  of  the  murder. 

To  save  himself,  the  leader  charged  the  crime  upon 
young  Armstrong,  and  before  the  court  of  inquiry 
testified  positively  that  he  plainly  saw  him  strike  the 
fatal  blow. 


LINCOLN  DEFENDS  YOUNG  ARMSTRONG.      359 

Armstrong  was  held  for  trial  on  the  charge  of 
murder.  The  testimony  against  him  was  positive. 
The  murder  was  not  only  unprovoked,  but  the  chief 
witness  represented  it  as  premeditated  and  vindic 
tive.  The  public  indignation  increased.  The  coun 
try  newspapers  provided  their  weekly  accretions. 
Every  boyish  fight,  every  circumstance  or  fact 
which  tended  to  show  his  unruly  disposition,  was 
seized  upon,  magnified  and  multiplied,  until  young 
Armstrong  was  made  out  to  be  a  fierce,  blood-thirsty 
miscreant  to  whom  murder  was  a  recreation.  It  be 
came  the  prevailing  opinion  that  public  justice  could 
not  wait  for  the  slow  forms  of  law.  It  was  decided 
to  hang  him  without  the  unnecessary  delay  and  ex 
pense  of  a  trial,  and  hung  he  would  have  been  but 
for  his  secret  and  sudden  removal  by  the  sheriff  to 
the  jail  in  another  county. 

The  calamity  fell  heavily  upon  the  prisoner's 
widowed  mother.  Upon  the  little  farm,  the  only 
property  left  by  her  husband,  she  had  been  able,  by 
industry  and  the  strictest  economy,  to  keep  her  chil 
dren  together.  She  was  now  to  see  her  neighbors 
turn  away  when  they  met  her  and  avoid  her  house 
as  though  it  was  infected.  The  wise  conclusion  of 
the  public  was  that  the  boy  had  not  been  properly 
brought  up ;  if  he  had  been  he  would  not  have  com 
mitted  the  murder.  Even  the  country  attorney  would 
not  appear  for  her  son  unless  she  would  mortgage 
her  farm  for  his  fees. 

Upon  this  dark  scene  suddenly  appeared  the  stal 
wart  form  of  Lincoln.  There  is  first  a  letter  re 
proaching  her  for  not  calling  on  him  when  she  was 
in  trouble  and  volunteering  to  defend  her  son.  It  is 
followed  bjr  Lincoln  in  person.  In  a  half -hour's  ex- 


360  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

amination  he  knows  that  the  prisoner  is  innocent. 
Why  cannot  those  who  have  great  force  of  character 
always  use  it  as  he  did?  He  went  to  the  home  of 
the  sad  widow  and  took  her  by  the  hand. 

"  Hannah !"  he  said,  "  your  boy  is  innocent.  He 
shall  be  made  as  clear  of  this  charge  as  the  sun  in 
yonder  sky." 

It  was  like  flooding  her  home  with  sunshine  and 
filling  her  heart  with  joy.  "  I  seemed  to  know  then 
that  my  boy  would  be  cleared, "  she  said,  "for  Abram 
never  deceived  anybody." 

Fortunately  we  have  excellent  reports  of  the  trial 
that  followed.  I  cite  only  those  portions  which 
illustrate  Lincoln,  and  one  source  of  my  information 
is  the  Cleveland  Leader.  According  to  that  ac 
count  the  prejudice  against  the  accused  was  undi- 
minished.  Lincoln  alone  appeared  confident  of  an 
acquittal.  It  was  difficult  to  say  which  was  the 
saddest  face — that  of  the  young  man  bleached  by  his 
imprisonment,  appalled  by  constant  fears  of  lynch 
ing,  with  a  reckless  enemy  who  was  to  swear  his  in 
nocent  life  away,  or  the  poor,  pale,  widowed  mother 
whose  son  was  to  be  tried  for  his  life  with  every 
opinion  settled  in  favor  of  his  guilt.  On  one  thing 
mother  and  son  were  agreed.  Their  only  hope  was 
in  the  tall,  dark-faced  man  in  whose  deep-set  eyes 
they  read  the  message  of  hope  and  courage. 

Of  the  six  hundred  people  in  the  court-house,  Lin 
coln  appeared  the  most  unconcerned.  He  had 
selected  a  young  attorney  to  assist  him,  to  whom  all 
the  preliminary  work  of  the  trial  was  intrusted. 
Lincoln  seemed  to  take  but  little  interest  in  the  im 
portant  work  of  selecting  a  jury.  He  sat  by  the 
table,  his  head  resting  upon  his  open  hand,  drawing 


LINCOLN  DEFENDS  YOUNG  ARMSTRONG.      361 

portraits  with  a  pencil.  He  interfered  but  once.  A 
juror  said  he  had  not  only  formed  an  opinion,  but  he 
had  said  many  times,  what  he  believed,  that  Arm 
strong  was  guilty.  Assuming  that  he  would  be  ex 
cused,  he  was  about  leaving  the  box,  when  Lincoln 
arose.  His  tall  form  towered  above  the  audience. 
u  Was  your  father  a  justice  of  the  peace  down  on  the 
Sangamon?"  he  asked.  The  juror  replied  that  he 
was.  "  We  decline  to  excuse  the  juror,"  said  Lin 
coln.  "  He  is  a  fair  man  who  will  not  go  against  his 
judgment,"  and  this  was  the  only  interference  with 
the  selection  of  the  jury. 

The  prosecuting  attorney  made  a  plain  statement 
of  a  very  simple  case.  He  proved  by  reliable  wit 
nesses  that  two  parties  were  engaged  in  the  fight; 
that  Armstrong  belonged  to  one  of  them ;  that  after 
it  was  over  one  man  lay  dead  on  the  ground,  his 
skull  fractured,  apparently  by  a  slung-shot  that  lay 
near  him;  that  some  one  said,  "I  saw  Armstrong 
hit  him ;"  that  Armstrong  appeared  to  be  confused, 
but  claimed  that  he  did  not  hit  the  man;  that  as 
soon  as  he  saw  there  was  to  be  a  fight  he  retreated, 
and  was  some  distance  away  when  he  heard  that  a 
man  had  been  killed.  These  witnesses  were  scarcely 
cross-examined.  They  were  asked  a  few  questions 
about  the  time  of  the  melee  and  dismissed.  They 
agreed  about  the  time,  which  was  also  fixed  by  one  of 
the  regular  exercises  of  the  camp-meeting. 

There  was  silence  in  the  crowded  court  as  the 
principal  witness  was  sworn.  He  was  a  low-browed 
man  of  thirty  with  a  hard,  merciless  face.  His  story 
was  brief,  but  if  true  it  was  fatal.  He  had  been  in 
the  company  with  Armstrong.  The  bottle  had  cir 
culated  freely.  Armstrong  was  talkative.  Said  he 


362  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

would  "  do  up"  the  man  who  was  killed.  He  was 
outside  the  crowd  during  the  melee.  He  saw  Arm 
strong  swing  the  shot,  strike  the  head  of  his  victim, 
who  fell  to  the  ground  and  never  rose  again.  Asked 
how  he  could  be  so  positive  when  the  occurrence  was 
in  the  evening,  he  said  the  parties  stood  in  range  be 
tween  him  and  the  full  moon,  which  made  the  place 
almost  as  light  as  day.  The  moon  had  been  a  con 
spicuous  figure  in  all  his  relations  of  the  transaction. 

"  There  has  been  bad  blood  and  ill-feeling  between 
Armstrong  and  yourself,  has  there  not?" 

''None  whatever,"  the  witness  answered. 

To  the  amazement  of  the  counsel,  court,  and  spec 
tators,  Lincoln  dismissed  the  witness  without  another 
question.  He  knew  better  than  to  cross-examine  a 
hostile  witness. 

The  prosecution  rested.  Lincoln  waived  his  open 
ing  argument  and  called  four  reputable,  substantial 
farmers,  the  nearest  neighbors,  who  had  known  Arm 
strong  all  his  life.  They  all  testified  that  although 
Armstrong  was  rather  wild  and  irrepressible,  he  had 
never  been  charged  with  a  wicked  or  malicious  act. 

"Why,"  said  one,  "he's  Jack  Armstrong's  own 
boy.  He's  got  no  malice  into  him.  He  would  share 
his  last  cent  with  anybody  that  was  in  want,  and  if 
he  was  cold  would  take  off  his  coat  and  give  it  to 
him."  The  same  witnesses  proved  that  the  worst 
enemy  the  prisoner  had  was  the  chief  witness,  who 
had  often  been  heard  to  threaten  him  with  violence. 

"That,"  said  Lincoln,  "is  our  case." 

Amazement  filled  the  court.  What  could  Lincoln 
be  thinking  of?  The  rope  was  tightening  around 
the  prisoner's  neck.  In  the  face  of  the  positive,  un- 
contradicted  evidence,  escape  was  impossible.  Why 


THE  TRIAL  OF  YOUNG  ARMSTRONG.          363 

did  he  not  call  the  prisoner  to  deny  the  charge,  or 
the  mother  to  show  the  peaceable  temper  of  the  boy? 
He  might  at  least  have  appealed  to  the  sympathies 
of  the  jury.  He  had  thrown  away  the  boy's  last 
chance  of  life.  Thoughts  like  these  pervaded  all 
minds.  The  face  of  the  widowed  mother  wore  an 
expression  of  hopeless  despair. 

Lincoln  saw  it  and  it  went  to  his  heart.  The 
court,  for  the  moment,  had  suspended  the  trial. 
With  grave  courtesy  the  lawyer  bent  over  the  figure 
of  the  poor  woman,  offered  her  his  arm  and  led  her 
to  an  open  window.  Pointing  to  the  sun,  which  had 
just  passed  the  meridian,  he  whispered  in  her  ear, 
"  Hannah !  before  that  sun  sets  your  boy  will  be  free !" 

"O  Abram!  Abram!  God  bless  you  for  those 
words!  I  don't  see  nor  I  don't  ask  how  it  can  be. 
But  I  will  hope,  for  you,  Abram,  I  know  would  not 
deceive  me !" 

The  prosecutor  supposed  he  had  a  clear  case. 
Upon  the  evidence  the  jury  would  have  to  convict. 
There  was  nothing  to  argue.  Until  some  defence 
was  suggested  he  said  he  would  not  occupy  the  time 
of  the  jury. 

Every  sound  was  hushed  as  Lincoln  rose  to  plead 
for  the  prisoner.  He  went  straight  to  the  merits  of 
the  case.  A  few  well-chosen  words  made  every  juror 
see  that  the  whole  case  rested  on  the  evidence  of  the 
principal  witness — except  that  there  was  not  a  shred 
of  proof  of  guilt.  But  for  that,  the  prisoner  was 
shown  to  be  a  generous,  good-hearted  boy.  Reject 
that,  and  the  jury  must  not  only  acquit,  they  must 
vindicate  the  prisoner.  There  was  just  enough  of  this 
to  enable  the  advocate  to  rise  to  the  command  of  the 
situation. 


364  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

Then  he  began  to  describe  the  perjurer,  calling  on 
Almighty  God  to  see  him  swear  away  the  life  of  his 
associate,  his  friend.  He  showed  how  easy  it  was 
for  an  honest  witness  in  the  night  time,  in  a  crowd 
of  angry  men,  to  be  mistaken ;  he  referred  to  instances 
of  innocent  men  condemned  upon  such  uncertain 
evidence.  Then  when  he  had  secured  the  close  at 
tention  of  every  juror,  when  even  the  judge  was 
leaning  forward  with  his  open  hand  to  his  ear  to 
catch  every  word,  he  turned,  extended  his  long  arm 
and  finger  straight  toward  the  witness,  and  in  the 
sharp  tones  of  a  voice  that  pierced  like  a  sword  ex 
claimed  :  "  But  he  cannot  be  mistaken ;  he  is,  he  is 
sharp-eyed ;  he  can  see  in  the  dark ;  he  has  the  gift 
of  second-sight.  He  saw,  as  he  told  you,  the  fatal 
blow  struck,  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  of  the  full 
moon — two  long  hours  before  it  rose  above  the 
eastern  horizon.  Look  for  yourselves,  gentlemen," 
he  said,  as  he  handed  to  the  foreman  the  Almanac 
and  Register  in  common  use  in  that  locality. 

The  change  of  opinion  was  electric.  There  was 
no  doubt  about  the  time  when  the  blow  wa.s  struck. 
Not  guilty,  was  the  thought  in  every  heart.  But  the 
scene  had  not  yet  passed.  In  almost  plaintive  tones 
'he  described  the  home  of  his  old  friend,  the  boy's 
father ;  its  open  doors  to  him  when  he  was  a  sad  and 
lonely  man ;  the  boy  that  had  climbed  upon  his  knee 
and  laid  his  curly  head  upon  his  shoulder ;  the  bright- 
faced  wife,  almost  a  mother  to  him.  "  There  she  sits, 
gentlemen,  a  sad-faced,  white-haired  widow,  await 
ing  your  verdict  which  shall  restore  to  her  arms  her 
son  falsely  accused. 

"  And  the  perjured  accuser,  what  of  him  ?"  As  well 
attempt  to  describe  the  flashes  of  lightning  and  the 


LINCOLN'S  PECULIARITIES.  365 

thunder-roll  of  the  storm  as  to  gather  the  burning 
words  of  scorn,  invective,  and  crushing  denunciation 
that  fell  from  the  lips  of  the  eloquent  advocate.  It 
overwhelmed  the  witness  with  its  terrible  force. 
Human  nature  could  not  endure  it.  Ghastly  with 
terror,  his  limbs  trembling  under  him  as  he  rose,  he 
reeled  toward  the  door,  followed  by  that  fearful  finger, 
and  almost  sank  to  the  floor  when  he  was  passing  the 
prisoner,  and  the  lawyer  fiercely  demanded :  "  Which 
of  the  two  is  the  murderer?" 

A  swift  acquittal  followed.  The  widow  fainted  in 
the  arms  of  her  son.  The  applause  that  shook  the 
building,  the  flight  of  the  felon  were  witnesses  of  the 
power  of  the  orator.  The  grateful  woman  undertook 
to  explain  how,  and  how  soon,  she  could  pay  the 
lawyer's  fee.  Again  he  led  her  to  the  window  and 
said,  "  The  day  is  not  yet  ended  and  your  son  is  free. 
I  shall  not  charge  you  one  cent,  Hannah.  Give  me 
credit  for  what  I  have  done  on  the  debt  I  have  owed 
3Tou  these  many  years." 

To  describe  the  man  Lincoln,  rather  than  to  mul 
tiply  anecdotes  of  him,  I  cannot  do  better  than  to 
give  an  account  of  him  at  this  period  of  his  life 
written  by  one  of  his  contemporaries.  At  this  time, 
he  writes,  the  terms  of  court  were  held  quarterly  and 
usually  lasted  about  two  weeks.  The  terms  were 
always  seasons  of  great  importance  and  much  gayety 
in  the  little  town  that  had  the  honor  of  being  the 
county  seat.  Distinguished  members  of  the  bar  from 
surrounding  and  even  from  distant  counties,  ex- 
judges  and  ex-members  of  Congress  attended,  and 
were  personally,  and  many  of  them  popularly,  known 
to  almost  every  adult,  male  and  female,  of  the 
limited  population.  They  came  in  by  stages  and  on 


366  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

horseback.  Among  them,  the  one  above  all  whose 
arrival  was  looked  forward  to  with  the  most  pleasur 
able  anticipations,  and  whose  possible  absence — al 
though  he  never  was  absent — was  feared  with  the 
liveliest  emotions  of  anxiety,  was  "Uncle  Abe,"  as 
we  all  lovingly  called  him.  Sometimes  he  was  a  day 
or  two  late,  and  then,  as  the  Bloomington  stage 
came  in  at  sundown,  the  bench  and  bar,  jurors  and 
citizens,  would  gather  in  crowds  at  the  hotel  where 
he  always  put  up,  to  give  him  a  welcome  if  he  should 
happily  arrive,  and  to  experience  the  keenest  disap 
pointment  if  he  should  not.  If  he  arrived,  as  he 
alighted  and  stretched  out  both  his  long  arms  to 
shake  hands  with  those  nearest  to  him  and  with 
those  who  approached,  his  homely  face,  handsome 
in  its  broad  and  sunny  smile,  his  voice  touching  in 
its  kindly  and  cheerful  accents,  every  one  in  his 
presence  felt  lighter  and  joyous  in  his  heart.  He 
brought  happiness  with  him.  He  loved  his  fellow- 
men  with  all  the  strength  of  his  great  nature,  and 
those  who  came  in  contact  with  him  could  not  help 
reciprocating  his  love.  His  tenderness  of  the  feel 
ings  of  others  was  the  extreme  of  sensitiveness. 

I  have  written  enough  to  serve  my  purpose.  He  was 
now  established  in  his  profession  as  its  unquestioned 
leader.  He  had  neither  enemies  nor  rivals.  He 
was  the  universal  associate,  counsellor,  adviser,  and 
friend.  At  this  period  in  his  career  Abraham  Lincoln 
was  pre-eminently  and  for  the  first  time  a  success 
ful  man. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  (CONTINUED) — THE  ORATOR— 
THE  CANDIDATE — THE  MAN  OF  THE  PEOPLE. 

IN  the  famous  campaign  of  "Tippecanoe  and  Tyler 
too,"  of  1840,  Mr.  Lincoln  advocated  the  election  of 
Gen.  W.  H.  Harrison,  the  successful  candidate.  In 
1844  he  was  an  earnest  supporter  of  Henry  Clay 
and  was  intensely  disappointed  by  his  defeat.  In 
1846  he  was  elected  to  the  lower  house  of  Congress 
and  re-elected  in  1848.  He  declined  a  re-election  to 
Congress  for  the  third  time,  and  in  1850  returned  to 
the  practice  of  his  profession. 

He  was  influential  in  the  legislature  and  politics  of 
Illinois,  an  industrious  and  by  no  means  a  silent 
member  of  Congress.  But  when,  in  1849,  he  declined 
a  re-election  to  the  House  of  Representatives  and  re 
turned  to  his  private  and  professional  life,  he  had 
done  almost  nothing  to  make  himself  known  outside 
of  his  State  or  to  prove  his  superiority  to  many  of  his 
contemporaries.  Had  his  life  closed  at  the  age  of 
forty-five  he  would  have  left  to  his  children  a  fair 
reputation,  but  the  credit  of  no  act  which  would  have 
given  him  a  place  in  history. 

But  in  the  year  1858,  when  he  was  past  middle 
age,  he  suddenly  rose  above  the  political  horizon  and 
so  challenged  the  public  attention  that  he  was  taken 
out  of  private  life  and,  without  any  intervening  step, 
placed  at  the  head  of  a  great  republic.  Such  an  iu- 

367 


368  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

stance  is  almost  without  a  parallel.  I  do  not  re 
member  that  it  had  happened  to  a  really  strong  man 
since  the  days  of  Cincinnatus.  I  think  we  shall  find 
its  cause  in  the  most  significant  event  of  Mr.  Lin 
coln's  career. 

If  I  were  attempting  to  write  a  biography,  or  even 
a  connected  account  of  his  life,  there  are  incidents  in 
it  which  it  would  be  necessary  to  describe  but  which 
are  unimportant  to  my  present  purpose.  Among 
these  are  his  threatened  duel  with  General  Shields, 
his  courtship  and  marriage,  and  several  of  his  achieve 
ments  in  his  profession.  He  appears  to  have  had 
some  skill  as  an  inventor,  and  he  took  out  letters 
patent  for  an  invention  to  assist  in  the  navigation  of 
steamboats  over  rapids  and  shallows.  But  it  cannot 
be  said  that  any  experience  of  his,  earlier  than  1858, 
had  any  special  influence  in  his  preparation  for  his 
subsequent  career. 

The  decade  which  ended  in  1858  covered  the  first 
aggressive  campaign  of  the  slave  power.  The  old 
slave  States  had  been  content  to  abide  by  the  com 
promises  arranged  from  time  to  time,  especially  the 
Missouri  compromise  line,  and  had  not  attempted  to 
extend  slavery  beyond  it.  But  after  slavery  had 
secured  the  passage  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Act,  dur 
ing  the  Kansas  controversy,  its  advocates  arrogantly 
demanded  the  right  to  enter  free  territory  with  their 
slaves,  in  direct  violation  of  the  compact.  The  de 
cision  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  in 
the  Dred  Scott  case  gave  to  the  institution  almost  all 
its  demands.  On  the  other  hand,  the  friends  of  free 
dom  had  never  claimed  any  right  to  interfere  with 
slavery  in  the  slave  States  or  south  of  the  compro 
mise  line.  To  that  extent  they  conceded  that  the  in- 


HIS  STUDY  OF  SLAVERY.  369 

stitution  was  intrenched  in  the  Constitution  as  a 
permanent  evil.  The  most  extreme  abolitionists  had 
limited  their  efforts  to  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the 
District  of  Columbia  and  its  exclusion  from  the  Ter 
ritories.  No  public  man  had  ventured  to  attack  it 
within  its  consecrated  limits.  Had  its  votaries  been 
content  to  abide  by  the  line  to  which  they  had  once 
for  a  good  consideration  agreed,  their  institution 
would  have  never  been  disturbed  except  by  them 
selves. 

Mr.  Lincoln  by  hard  study  had  become  a  master  of 
the  art  of  profound  thought.  He  knew  the  value  of 
intellectual  work  and  of  facts  irrespective  of  the 
source  from  which  they  were  derived.  We  know 
that  the  great  conclusions  of  his  later  life  were 
reached  by  his  own  processes,  without  much  assist 
ance  from  others.  We  have  an  example  of  these 
processes  in  his  first  inaugural  address,  which  he 
composed  with  no  assistance  beyond  a  copy  of  the 
Federal  Constitution  and  a  speech  of  Henry  Clay's. 

The  advocates  of  slavery  had  committed  the  grave 
error  of  forcing  its  pretensions  upon  such  minds  as 
that  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  They  had  been  successful  in 
extorting  new  concessions  from  the  people  of  the 
free  States.  Instead  of  appreciating  that  there  was 
a  point  beyond  which  concession  could  not  go,  they 
made  every  success  the  pretext  for  a  new  aggression, 
until  the  halls  of  Congress  became  the  theatre  of  a 
contest  which  annually  became  more  angry  and 
violent. 

The  subject  being  thus  forced  upon  his  attention 
before  he  left  Congress,  Mr.  Lincoln  saw  in  it  an 
issue  which  touched  the  national  life.     When  he  re 
turned  to  private  life  he  became  a  close  observer  of 
24 


370  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

the  aggressions  of  slavery,  never  more  extreme 
than  from  1850  to  1857.  He  gave  to  the  study  of 
the  subject  in  all  its  bearings  all  the  strength  of  his 
powerful  intellect.  God  made  him  a  lover  of  justice, 
humanity,  and  freedom ;  an  enemy,  but  a  fair  one,  of 
the  institution  of  human  slavery.  There  is  a  letter 
written  by  him,  August  24th,  1855,  to  his  friend 
Joshua  Speed,  which  reflects  like  a  mirror  the  con 
dition  of  his  mind.  He  calls  his  friend's  attention  to 
a  trip  which  they  made  together  on  a  steamboat  from 
Louisville  to  St.  Louis  in  1841.  "  There  were  on 
board  ten  or  a  dozen  slaves  shackled  together  with 
irons.  That  sight  was  a  continual  torment  to  me.  I 
see  something  like  it  every  time  I  touch  the  Ohio  or 
any  other  slave  border. "  He  disliked  slavery  because 
it  appeared  to  be  cruel,  oppressive,  debasing  to  both 
master  and  slave.  He  loved  freedom  because  it 
elevated  the  human  race.  It  was  the  natural  right 
of  man,  ordained  by  the  Almighty  and  certain  to 
triumph  in  his  own  good  time. 

But  for  the  time  his  clear  eye  saw,  and  he  knew  in 
the  depths  of  his  soul,  that  freedom  was  fighting  a 
losing  battle.  For  years  a  solid  South  had  stood 
like  a  rock  demanding  new  concessions  and  in  the 
end  securing  them  from  a  divided  North.  Victori 
ous  in  every  skirmish,  slavery  was  growing  stronger, 
freedom  weaker.  A  few  more  victories  and  slavery 
would  be  strong  enough  for  the  final  struggle  in 
which  defeat  would  make  ours  a  slave  republic. 
After  years  of  study  he  knew  beyond  a  doubt  where 
his  party  had  erred,  and  he  had  wrought  out  in  his 
own  mind  the  lines  upon  which  the  battle  for  free 
dom  could  be  won. 

A  mind  accustomed  to  work  out  great  problems 


HIS  STUDY  OF  SLAVERY.  371 

unassisted  becomes  unconsciously  secretive.  It  was 
more  than  a  habit  with  Mr.  Lincoln  which  con 
strained  him,  in  the  later  years  of  his  life,  to  study  a 
subject  in  all  its  aspects  and  all  its  possible  con 
sequences  ;  to  solve  all  his  doubts  and  reach  all  his 
conclusions,  before  he  consulted  or  communicated 
with  others.  Aside  from  two  letters,  there  was  very 
little  evidence  that  he  was  paying  any  attention  to 
the  subject  of  slavery  for  the  first  six  years  after 
he  retired  from  Congress.  But  it  is  now  known  to 
those  with  whom  he  conversed  freely,  at  the  time 
the  proclamation  of  emancipation  was  under  consider 
ation,  that  during  these  years  he  was  a  close  observer 
of  events,  and  that  no  fact  or  circumstance  connected 
with  the  forward  movement  of  the  slave  power  es 
caped  his  notice.  His  familiarity  with  its  details 
was  remarked  by  every  one  with  whom  he  talked 
on  the  subject.  From  the  ratification  of  the  treaty 
by  which  we  acquired  so  large  a  part  of  Mexico,  his 
memory  was  an  encyclopedia  of  the  facts  of  sla 
very  in  America. 

I  dwell  upon  this  subject  because  I  believe  that 
Abraham  Lincoln's  greatest  work  for  freedom  was 
done  long  before  he  was  elected  President  and  at  the 
very  outset  of  his  career  as  a  statesman.  It  was  that 
work  which  made  him  President.  For  the  first  time  in 
our  republic  it  put  the  controversy  between  human 
slavery  and  freedom  upon  its  true  ground,  and 
launched  against  the  peculiar  institution  the  bolt  of 
death. 

In  the  first  half  of  the  year  1858  the  Republicans 
of  Illinois  had  by  common  consent  determined  that 
Mr.  Lincoln  should  be  their  candidate  for  the  Senate 
of  the  United  States.  In  March,  1857,  when  Mr. 


372  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

Buchanan  was  inaugurated,  the  fight  for  Kansas  had 
almost  reached  the  point  of  civil  war.  The  Dred 
Scott  decision,  which  virtually  held  the  Missouri 
Compromise  to  be  unconstitutional,  was  heralded  by 
the  slave  power  as  decisive  of  the  controversy.  The 
trick  of  the  Lecompton  constitution  was  devised  in 
the  autumn.  It  submitted  only  a  schedule  on  the 
subject  of  slavery  to  the  people,  so  arranged  that 
every  vote,  whether  for  or  against  the  schedule,  was 
a  vote  for  slavery.  Judge  Douglas,  whose  senatorial 
term  was  about  to  expire,  was  a  candidate  for  re 
election.  He  had  maintained,  as  the  Dred  Scott  case 
held,  that  the  Missouri  Compromise  was  unconstitu 
tional,  but  he  would  not  defend  the  Lecompton  fraud. 

In  announcing  his  hostility  to  the  Lecompton  con 
stitution,  Judge  Douglas  had  declared  that  "  he  did 
not  care  whether  slavery  was  voted  up  or  voted 
down."  His  opposition  to  that  fraud  had  made  a 
split  in  his  own  party,  and  there  were  many  Repub 
licans  who  were  in  favor  of  returning  him  to  the 
Senate,  unopposed.  This  fact  made  him  a  most 
formidable  candidate  against  any  republican  nominee 
and  presented  to  the  party  a  strong  inducement  not 
to  make  the  abstract  issue  with  slavery  prominent  in 
the  campaign.  Any  other  candidate  than  Mr.  Lin 
coln  would  have  temporized  and  treated  slavery  with 
extreme  reserve. 

As  his  habit  was  upon  all  occasions  of  importance, 
Mr.  Lincoln  made  careful  preparation  for  the  nomi 
nating  convention.  To  the  body  of  Republicans 
who  were  to  meet  at  Springfield  on  the  17th  of  June, 
1858,  he  intended  to  give  the  results  of  ten  years' 
careful  study  and  observation  of  the  political  influence 
of  slavery  upon  the  republic.  He  well  knew  the 


THE   "DIVIDED  HOUSE"  SPEECH.  373 

force  of  words,  and  he  selected  those  in  which  his  con 
clusions  should  be  announced.  When  the  nomina 
tion  was  tendered  to  him,  he  accepted  it  in  what  has 
since  come  to  be  known  as  the  "Divided  House" 
speech,  the  most  important  of  his  life,  possibly  the 
most  important  in  its  consequences  ever  delivered  in 
the  republic,  for  it  was  the  first  which  accurately 
stated  the  future  of  the  struggle  between  freedom 
and  slavery.  He  took  his  stand  upon  the  great  fact 
declared  by  our  Saviour  to  the  Scribes  which  came 
down  from  Jerusalem,  "  If  a  house  be  divided  against 
itself  that  house  cannot  stand, "  and  declared  his  own 
faith  that  "  this  Government  cannot  permanently  en 
dure  half  slave  and  half  free." 

The  unexpected  announcement  of  this  bold  predic 
tion  almost  convulsed  the  Republican  party.  It  came 
upon  Mr.  Lincoln's  supporters  like  thunder  from  a 
cloudless  sky .  The  leaders  of  the  party  were  appalled . 
They  declared  that  he  had  invited  defeat;  that  he 
had  destroyed  his  party ;  that  he  had  made  the  issue 
one  of  life  or  death.  They  pressed  him  to  explain  or 
modify  his  statement  so  that  it  should  not  amount 
to  a  declaration  of  war  against  slavery,  provided  its 
advocates  would  restrict  it  within  the  limits  to  which 
they  had  once  consented.  But  Mr.  Lincoln  scorned 
all  subterfuge.  He  said  that  the  statement  that 
slavery  could  not  exist  unless  it  was  aggressive  was 
a  fact  proved  by  all  human  experience  within  the 
historic  period.  He  said :  "  I  had  rather  have  this 
fact  made  prominent  and  discussed  before  the  people 
at  the  cost  of  my  defeat  than  to  suppress  it  and 
secure  my  election.  By  it  I  will  stand  or  fall." 

What  followed  is  familiar  history.  Judge  Doug 
las  seized  the  opportunity  to  show  that  the  views  of 


374  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

Mr.  Lincoln  were  more  extreme  and  dangerous  than 
those  of  the  abolitionists ;  that  they  involved  a  war 
to  the  death  with  slavery.  Mr.  Lincoln  did  not 
flinch  from  their  defence.  He  challenged  his  ad 
versary  to  a  public  discussion.  His  challenge  was 
accepted,  and  the  debate  instead  of  destroying  the  Re 
publican  party  drew  to  it  a  majority  of  the  voters  of 
Illinois,  and  made  Abraham  Lincoln,  although  de 
feated  by  the  legislature,  the  most  conspicuous  of  its 
leaders. 

There  has  never  been  in  American  history  such  a 
debate  before  the  people  as  that  of  1858  between  Lin 
coln  and  Douglas.  Both  were  great  men,  great 
enough  to  appreciate  and  respect  each  other.  Its  in 
fluence  has  not  yet  passed  away.  Not  long  after  the 
Springfield  convention,  Mr.  Douglas  returned  to 
Chicago,  where  he  made  a  speech  which  was  regarded 
as  the  supreme  effort  of  his  life.  I  have  had  an  ac 
count  of  it  from  an  intelligent  gentleman  who  was 
one  of  the  audience.  Judge  Douglas  spoke  of  Mr. 
Lincoln  as  an  amiable  and  good-hearted  man,  rather 
out  of  place  in  politics,  and  then  proceeded  with  his 
argument  in  a  tone  of  almost  offensive  superiority. 
Mr.  Lincoln,  who  was  present  when  Judge  Douglas 
closed,  was  called  on  for  a  speech.  He  replied  that 
the  hour  was  late,  too  late  for  any  reply  to  the  great 
argument  of  Judge  Douglas.  But  if  the  audience 
cared  to  come  to  the  same  place  the  following  even 
ing  he  would  reply  to  Judge  Douglas,  and  especially 
to  his  severe  strictures  upon  the  statement  that  this 
Government  could  not  permanently  endure  half  slave 
and  half  free.  He  would  also  answer  his  commen 
dations  of  popular,  or,  as  it  used  to  be  called,  "  squat 
ter  sovereignty." 


HIS  REPLY   TO  SENATOR  DOUGLAS.  375 

The  promised  speech  was  delivered  in  the  presence 
of  a  great  audience.  Like  all  his  public  addresses 
after  June  17th,  1858,  it  was  a  great  speech.  Judge 
Douglas  had  charged  him  with  making  a  carefully 
prepared  address  in  favor  of  inviting  the  South  to 
make  war  upon  the  North  for  the  purpose  of  nation 
alizing  slavery.  He  had  reminded  him  that  the  Gov 
ernment  had  endured,  half  slave  and  half  free,  for 
more  than  eighty  years,  and  that  there  was  no  reason 
why  it  should  not  endure  in  future ! 

In  answer  to  the  charge  that  his  speech  was  pre 
pared,  Mr.  Lincoln  said :  "  I  admit  that  it  was.  I 
am  not  a  master  of  language ;  I  have  not  a  fine  educa 
tion  ;  I  am  not  capable  of  entering  into  a  disquisition 
upon  dialectics,  as  I  believe  you  call  it ;  but  I  do  not 
believe  my  language  bears  any  such  construction  as 
Judge  Douglas  puts  upon  it. 

"  He  says  I  am  in  favor  of  making  war  by  the 
North  upon  the  South  for  the  extinction  of  slavery ; 
that  I  am  also  in  favor  of  inviting  (as  he  expresses 
it)  the  South  to  a  war  upon  the  North,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  nationalizing  slavery.  Now,  it  is  singular 
enough,  if  you  will  carefully  read  that  passage  over, 
that  I  did  not  say  that  I  was  in  favor  of  anything  in 
it ;  I  only  said  what  I  expected  would  take  place.  I 
made  a  prediction  only.  It  may  have  been  a  foolish 
one,  perhaps.  I  did  not  even  say  that  I  desired  that 
slavery  should  be  put  in  the  course  of  ultimate  ex 
tinction.  /  do  say  so  now,  however,  so  there  need 
be  no  longer  any  difficulty  about  that." 

Mr.  Lincoln  then  announced  another  great  truth. 
It  was  so  self-evident  that  it  is  singular  that  it  had 
not  been  announced  and  understood  before.  He 
said :  "  I  am  not,  in  the  first  place,  unaware  that  this 


376  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

Government  has  endured  eighty-two  years  half  slave 
and  half  free.  I  know  that.  I  am  tolerably  well 
acquainted  with  the  history  of  the  country,  and  I 
know  that  it  has  endured  eighty-two  years  half  slave 
and  half  free.  I  believe — and  that  is  what  I  meant 
to  allude  to  there — I  believe  it  lias  endured  because, 
during  all  that  time,  until  the  introduction  of  the 
Nebraska  Bill,  THE  PUBLIC  MIND  DID  REST  IN  THE 

BELIEF  THAT  SLAVERY  WAS  IN  THE  COURSE  OF  ULTI 
MATE  EXTINCTION.  That  was  what  gave  us  the  rest 
that  we  had  through  that  period  of  eighty-two  years ; 
at  least  I  so  believe.  I  have  always  hated  slavery, 
1  think,  as  much  as  any  abolitionist.  I  have  been 
an  old-time  Whig.  I  have  always  hated  it,  but 
I  have  always  been  quiet  about  it  until  this  new  era 
of  the  introduction  of  the  Nebraska  Bill  began,  be 
cause  I  believed  that  slavery  was  in  the  course  of  final 
extinction." 

The  italics  are  my  own.  This  speech  was  a  sup 
plement  to  the  speech  of  June  17th.  Together  they 
form  the  basis  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  platform  in  the  great 
discussion.  Slavery  had  been  universally  supposed 
to  be  in  the  course  of  extinction.  It  had  changed 
front.  It  now  claimed  extension  into  the  Territories 
and  recognition  in  the  free  States  as  constitutional 
rights.  These  pretensions  had  been  to  a  large  extent 
sanctioned  by  the  Supreme  Court  in  the  Dred  Scott 
case.  They  had  precipitated  an  irrepressible  conflict 
for  the  control  of  the  Government  upon  the  single 
issue  of  the  right  or  wrong  of  slavery.  If  slavery 
was  just  and  right,  then  Judge  Douglas  ought  to  be 
sustained.  If  it  was  unjust  and  wrong,  he  ought  to 
be  voted  down.  This  view  of  the  situation,  the  re 
sult  of  long  and  careful  study  by  a  powerful  intellect, 


THE  DEBATE  WITH  DOUGLAS.      377 

touched  the  life  of  the  republic.  In  comparison  with 
it  the  success  of  candidates  appeared  to  him  insignifi 
cant  and  contemptible.  He  compelled  his  adver 
sary  to  assume  the  defence  of  the  institution  on  the 
ground  that  it  was  just  and  right  and  not  incon 
sistent  with  the  theory  of  a  free  republican  govern 
ment. 

Senator  Douglas  was  a  statesman  of  great  ability, 
quick  of  apprehension  and  adroit  in  argument.  He 
had  had  great  experience  in  debate,  in  which  he  had 
never  before  encountered  his  superior.  Mr.  Lincoln's 
equipment  was  his  clear  conception  of  the  subject,  ac 
quired  by  study  and  profound  thought  operating  upon 
a  mind  intolerant  of  every  form  of  wrong  and  injus 
tice.  They  were  worthy  adversaries  and  they  sin 
cerely  respected  each  other. 

The  student  will  find  no  chapter  in  American  his 
tory  which  he  will  read  with  greater  profit  than  the 
story  of  this  debate.  It  illustrates  the  value  of  prep 
aration  in  all  public  discussions.  There  are  many 
who  measure  the  ability  of  a  speaker  by  his  readiness 
and  facility  of  speech  upon  all  subjects  and  all  oc 
casions.  Such  men  may  be  brilliant,  but  they  are 
always  superficial.  There  was  great  force  in  an  ob 
servation  attributed  to  the  celebrated  Dr.  Nott,  of 
Union  College,  Schenectady.  He  said  that  "  he  did 
not  so  much  object  to  extemporary  speaking  as  he 
did  to  extemporary  thinking."  There  was  no  ex 
temporary  thought  or  speech  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Lin 
coln  in  this  debate.  It  was  instructive  as  well  as 
entertaining.  It  furnished  to  its  auditors  material 
for  thought.  It  drew  crowds  of  plain  citizens,  which 
increased  at  every  session  and  were  largest  at  the 
close.  Its  study  even  now  is  an  intellectual  feast. 


378  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

In  it  Mr.  Lincoln  always  appears  as  the  leader.  He 
held  his  adversary  inflexibly  to  the  issue  of  the  right 
or  wrong  of  slavery.  He  represented  freedom  as 
noble,  merciful,  just,  and  true ;  he  held  slavery  up  to 
public  reprobation  in  words  of  burning  eloquence  as 
cruel,  brutal,  unjust,  and  inhuman,  and  the  people 
cried,  "Amen." 

Mr.  Lincoln  was  defeated  as  a  candidate  for  the 
Senate  and  Judge  Douglas  was  elected.  But  this  now 
famous  debate  had  consequences  of  infinitely  greater 
moment  than  the  election  of  a  Senator.  It  not  only 
drew  to  Mr.  Lincoln  the  support  of  a  majority  of  the 
voters  of  Illinois ;  it  marked  out  the  lines  upon  which 
the  future  battle  of  slavery  against  freedom  was  to 
be  fought.  It  established  his  title  to  the  leadership 
of  the  army  of  freedom,  as  the  most  powerful  and 
acceptable  public  speaker  of  his  time.  The  people 
came  to  respect  him  as  a  statesman ;  to  love  him  as 
one  of  themselves.  Henceforth,  wherever  he  was  to 
be  announced  as  a  speaker,  multitudes  were  to  listen 
to  him  as  the  champion  of  freedom,  the  great  orator 
of  his  time. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN   (CONTINUED) — His  ELECTION 
—His  PREPARATION  AND  HIS  PROMISES. 

THE  debate  with  Senator  Douglas  closed  at  Alton,  • 
111.,  on  the  15th  of  October,  1858.  Mr.  Lincoln  had 
made  (including  those  in  the  debate)  more  than  fifty 
speeches  in  the  campaign.  The  first  was  unanswer 
able,  and  every  successive  speech  appeared  to  be  more 
convincing  and  powerful  than  its  predecessor.  Their 
strength  was  in  their  simplicity.  Their  conclusions 
were  soon  to  be  condensed  into  the  platform  of  a 
national  Republican  party. 

In  the  early  autumn  of  the  following  year,  1859, 
the  contest  was  transferred  to  Ohio,  where  the  Demo 
crats  had  nominated  Mr.  Pugh  as  their  candidate 
for  governor,  and  Senator  Douglas  had  been  secured 
to  advocate  his  election.  The  Ohio  Republicans  sent 
to  Mr.  Lincoln  the  Macedonian  cry,  "  Come  over 
and  help  us !" 

He  came;  he  made  two  speeches,  the  first  at 
Columbus,  the  other  at  Cincinnati.  The  speech  at 
Columbus  was  a  review.  It  concerned  the  past  and 
the  present.  It  exposed  the  insidious  dangers  of  Mr. 
Douglas'  favorite  doctrine  of  Popular  Sovereignty, 
and  the  exposure  destroyed  it.  He  showed  how  the 
Democratic  doctrines  were  changing  the  negro  from 
a  man  into  an  animal.  "You  are  prepared,"  he  said 
to  the  Democrats,  "  to  deal  with  the  negro  as  with 

379 


380  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

the  brute.  One  or  two  more  turns  of  the  screw  and 
you  will  support  or  submit  to  the  slave  trade,  revived 
with  all  its  horrors ;  a  slave  code  enforced  in  our  Ter 
ritories  ;  a  new  Dred  Scott  decision  to  bring  slavery 
into  the  very  heart  of  the  free  North." 

At  Cincinnati,  after  announcing  to  the  Democrats 
that  they  might  be  beaten  in  the  next  presidential 
campaign  with  Mr.  Douglas  as  their  candidate,  but 
they  must  take  him,  for  under  any  other  candidate 
they  would  inevitably  be  defeated,  he  outlined  the 
Republican  platform  of  the  future.  The  reader  will 
not  fail  to  note  the  modesty,  simplicity,  and  the 
power  of  his  words :  "  In  order  to  beat  our  opponents, 
I  think  we  want  and  must  have  a  national  policy  in 
regard  to  the  institution  of  slavery,  that  acknowl 
edges  and  deals  with  that  institution  as  being 
wrong"  "We  must  not  interfere  with  slavery  in 
the  States  where  it  exists,  because  the  Constitution 
forbids  it,  and  the  general  welfare  does  not  require 
us  to  do  so.  We  must  not  withhold  an  efficient 
fugitive  slave  law,  because  the  Constitution  requires 
us  (as  I  understand  it)  not  to  withhold  such  a  law. 
But  we  must  prevent  the  outspreading  of  the  in 
stitution  because  neither  the  Constitution  nor  the 
general  welfare  requires  us  to  extend  it.  We  must 
prevent  the  revival  of  the  African  slave  trade  and 
the  enacting  by  Congress  of  a  territorial  slave 
code.  We  must  prevent  each  of  these  things  being 
done  by  either  Congresses  or  courts.  The  people  of 
these  United  States  are  the  rightful  masters  of  both 
Congresses  and  courts,  not  to  overthrow  the  Consti 
tution,  but  to  overthrow  the  men  who  pervert  the 
Constitution." 

"  To  do  these  things  we  must  employ  instrumen- 


LINCOLN  IN  KANSAS  AND  IN  THE  EAST.        381 

talities.  We  must  hold  conventions ;  we  must  adopt 
platforms ;  we  must  nominate  candidates ;  we  must 
carry  elections.  In  all  these  things,  I  think,  we 
ought  to  keep  in  view  our  real  purpose,  and  in  none 
do  anything  that  stands  adverse  to  our  purpose." 

The  telegraph  carried  the  Ohio  speeches  to  Kansas. 
They  were  answered  by  an  invitation  of  the  people 
to  visit  the  new  State,  and  a  desire  to  see  the  man 
upon  whom  the  people  looked  as  the  finisher,  if  not 
the  author  of  their  faith.  He  accepted  their  invita 
tion.  His  journey  through  the  young  commonwealth 
was  an  unbroken  procession.  On  foot,  on  horseback, 
in  carriages  and  improvised  vehicles,  from  distant 
farms  the  people  came.  Aged  grandsire,  sturdy 
boy,  sunburned  youth,  blushing  school-girl,  maid 
and  matron,  united  their  voices  in  a  continuous  song 
of  popular  approval  of  the  man  who  had  done  so 
much  to  make  Kansas  prosperous  and  free. 

Meantime  his  fame  had  travelled  eastward.  For 
tunately  for  the  country  he  came  to  deliver  an  address 
in  the  great  hall  of  the  Cooper  Institute  in  New 
York,  in  February,  1860.  The  hearts  of  the  invita 
tion  committee  sank  in  their  bosoms  when  an  awk 
ward,  ill-dressed,  unassuming  man  announced  him 
self  as  Abraham  Lincoln,  and  expressed  his  doubts 
whether  he  could  say  anything  to  interest  the  people 
of  a  great  city.  A  Sunday  intervened.  He  went  to 
hear  Mr.  Beecher.  After  the  sermon  the  preacher 
introduced  him  to  leading  members  of  his  congrega 
tion,  who  made  swift  discovery  that  he  was  no  or 
dinary  man. 

There  was  magic  enough  in  his  name  to  fill  the 
Cooper  Institute  with  eager  listeners.  Bryant,  the 
great  poet,  presided.  Mr.  Lincoln's  address  was  long 


382  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

and  it  had  none  of  the  stirring  eloquence  of  aboli 
tionists  of  the  Wendell  Phillips  school.  It  had  little 
of  the  expected  Western  humor — it  was  profoundly 
argumentative.  But  the  approval  of  the  audience 
was  unanimous  and  enthusiastic,  and  the  most  com 
petent  critics  promptly  pronounced  it  the  most 
powerful  contribution  ever  made  to  the  literature  of 
the  slave  question,  and  recognized  the  fact  that  it 
was  the  production  of  a  great  orator,  competent  to 
lead  the  army  of  freedom  in  a  contest  for  the  control 
of  the  republic. 

Invitations  to  the  New  England  cities  were  nu 
merous  from  those  who  knew  that  he  would  touch 
the  conscience  of  his  hearers  with  the  fire  of  his  own 
enthusiasm.  His  lecture  course  was  brief,  his 
lectures  four  in  number,  but  each  one  left  a  delighted 
audience  and  an  ineffaceable  impression  upon  the 
popular  mind. 

It  is  practically  demonstrable  that  the  speech  in 
the  Cooper  Institute  made  Mr.  Lincoln  President  of 
the  United  States.  The  Republican  National  Con 
vention  was  held  at  Chicago  on  the  16th  of  May,  1860. 
Mr.  Seward  was  the  strongest  candidate;  Governor 
Chase,  Mr.  Cameron,  and  Judge  Bates,  of  Missouri, 
each  had  their  friends.  But  for  the  impression  made 
by  Mr.  Lincoln's  addresses  in  the  East,  the  delegates 
from  New  York  and  New  England  would  have  unani 
mously  supported  Mr.  Seward  to  the  end.  As  it  was, 
Mr.  Seward  would  have  been  nominated  if  the  vote 
had  been  taken  immediately  on  the  adoption  of  the 
platform.  It  was  not,  and  the  delay  to  him  was  fatal. 

The  balloting  began  on  the  morning  of  Friday,  the 
18th.  No  man  ever  surpassed  Mr.  Lincoln  in  the 
warm  attachment  of  his  friends.  The  delegation  from 


HIS  NOMINATION.  383 

Illinois  was  solid  and  prepared  to  do  anything  hon 
orable  for  their  candidate.  Knowing  how  closely 
he  was  in  touch  with  the  popular  heart,  it  was  said 
that  they  had  packed  the  galleries  with  men  who 
were  to  lead  the  applause  for  him.  If  this  work  was 
done  it  was  superfluous.  The  delegates  were  touched 
with  an  enthusiasm  for  Lincoln  that  was  infectious. 
There  were  four  hundred  and  sixty -five  votes  in  the 
convention,  of  which  on  the  first  ballot  Mr.  Seward 
received  173|  and  Mr.  Lincoln  102.  On  the  sec 
ond  ballot,  Vermont,  as  she  has  done  on  many 
other  occasions,  led  the  triumphal  march.  Her 
delegates  had  voted  for  Mr.  Collamer  on  the  first 
ballot.  The  chairman,  when  Vermont  was  called  on 
the  second,  announced  her  "  ten  votes  for  Abraham 
Lincoln."  On  this  ballot  Mr.  Lincoln's  vote  was  one 
hundred  and  eighty-one,  or  only  three  and  a  half  votes 
less  than  Mr.  Seward's  one  hundred  and  eighty-four 
and  one  half.  On  the  third  ballot  Mr.  Lincoln  came 
within  two  of  a  majority.  Before  the  vote  was  an 
nounced  Mr.  Carter,  of  Ohio,  announced  a  change  in 
the  delegation  from  that  State  of  four  votes  to  Mr. 
Lincoln,  which  gave  him  the  nomination. 

Success  in  a  national  convention  is  always  an 
nounced  with  applause.  But  no  candidate  was  ever 
greeted  with  more  vociferous  evidences  of  approval 
than  Mr.  Lincoln.  The  ringing  cheers  of  the  dele 
gates  and  the  spectators,  the  shouts  of  the  greater 
multitude  in  the  streets,  the  music  of  many  bands, 
the  firing  of  cannon,  created  an  uproar  which  delayed 
the  announcement  of  the  vote.  On  the  final  count 
there  were  three  hundred  and  fifty-four  votes  for  Mr. 
Lincoln.  On  motion  of  Mr.  Evarts,  the  tried  friend 
of  Mr.  Seward,  the  nomination  was  made  unani- 


384  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

mous ;  the  convention  took  a  recess  until  the  after 
noon,  when  the  work  of  the  convention  was  completed 
by  the  nomination  of  Mr.  Hamlin  for  the  second  place 
on  the  ticket. 

No  one  who  took  an  active  part  in  the  campaign 
could  have  doubted  the  affection  of  the  people  for 
Mr.  Lincoln  or  the  wisdom  of  his  nomination. 
The  people  are  quick  to  discover  in  a  candidate  the 
qualities  they  value.  Abraham  Lincoln  was  no 
stranger  in  any  section  of  the  free  States.  As  I 
have  elsewhere  written,  "  His  name  was  an  inspira 
tion.  It  was  everywhere  the  same.  In  the  crowded 
city  or  at  the  country  cross-roads ;  up  in  the  moun 
tain  hamlets  or  out  on  the  Western  prairies ;  among 
the  fishermen  of  the  Atlantic  and  the  miners  of  the 
Pacific  coast,  the  political  orator  was  heard  with 
quiet  consideration  until  he  spoke  the  name  of  Lin 
coln.  At  that  name,  cheers  such  as  never  welcomed 
king  or  conqueror  supplied  his  peroration."  His  un- 
soiled  integrity ;  his  kindness  of  heart ;  his  sympa 
thies  broad  enough  for  all  forms  of  sorrow  and  mis 
fortune;  his  earnest  sincerity;  his  aversion  to  cant 
and  pretence  in  the  quadrangular  contest  which  fol 
lowed,  secured  to  him  his  election,  where  Mr.  Seward 
or  Governor  Chase  or  Mr.  Cameron  or  Judge  Bates 
would  have  been  defeated.  His  nomination  was  one 
of  the  many  providences  which  have  contributed  to 
the  preservation  of  the  republic. 

It  would  be  premature  here  to  advert  to  the  singu 
lar  felicity  and  power  with  which  Mr.  Lincoln  ex 
pressed  his  ideas.  But  as  a  perfect  document  of  its 
kind,  as  well  as  a  refutation  of  the  wicked  charge  of 
infidelity  which  has  been  made  against  him,  I  here 
present  his  letter  accepting  this  nomination : 


HE  ACCEPTS  THE  NOMINATION.  385 

"  I  accept  the  nomination  tendered  me  by  the  con 
vention.  The  declaration  of  principles  and  senti 
ments  which  accompanies  your  letter  meets  my  ap 
proval,  and  it  shall  be  my  care  not  to  violate  or  dis 
regard  it  in  any  part.  Imploring  the  assistance  of 
Divine  Providence  and  with  due  regard  to  the  views 
and  feelings  of  all  who  were  represented  in  the  con 
vention,  to  the  rights  of  all  the  States  and  Territories 
and  people  of  the  nation,  to  the  inviolability  of  the 
Constitution,  and  the  perpetual  union,  harmony,  and 
prosperity  of  all,  I  am  most  happy  to  co-operate  for 
the  practical  success  of  the  principles  declared  by  the 
convention." 

Mr.  Lincoln  preserved  his  unbroken  tranquillity  of 
mind  from  his  nomination  until  his  election.  His 
position  was  known ;  it  required  no  explanation.  He 
was  opposed  to  slavery  upon  principle ;  he  believed 
any  increase  of  its  power  to  be  detrimental.  But  it 
had  been  established  in  the  slave  States  by  law  and 
recognized  by  the  Constitution.  There  it  was  a 
local  institution,  with  which  the  Federal  Government 
had  no  concern.  He  believed  in  the  power  and  the 
duty  of  Congress  to  exclude  slavery  from  the  Ter 
ritories  by  positive  law,  and  he  was  ready  to  co-oper 
ate  with  all  who  were  willing  to  labor  to  that  end. 

He  was  opposed  by  Mr.  Douglas,  the  advocate  of 
the  doctrine  of  popular  sovereignty,  or  the  exclusive 
control  by  their  legislatures  of  slavery  in  the  Ter 
ritories  ;  by  Mr.  Breckenridge,  the  candidate  of  the 
Democrats,  who  asserted  the  duty  and  power  of  Con 
gress  to  protect  slavery  in  the  Territories,  and  ,by 
Mr.  Bell,  the  candidate  of  those  who  had  no  opinions 
on  the  subject  of  slavery.  He  firmly  believed  in  his 
own  election,  he  did  nothing  to  divert  the  people 
25 


386  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

from  his  support,  and  he  was  not  disappointed.  He 
received  every  electoral  vote  of  the  free  States  save 
four  in  New  Jersey  cast  for  Douglas ;  one  hundred 
and  eighty  in  all,  or  a  majority  in  the  electoral  college 
of  fifty-seven.  Mr.  Douglas  received  twelve,  Mr. 
Breckenridge  seventy-two,  and  Mr.  Bell  thirty-nine 
electoral  votes.  Of  the  popular  vote  Mr.  Lincoln  re 
ceived  1,857,610;  Mr.  Douglas,  1,365,976;  Brecken 
ridge,  847,953;  and  Bell,  590,631. 

Mr.  Lincoln  was  not  disturbed  by  the  important 
events  which  followed  his  election  and  preceded  his 
inauguration.  Nor  do  I  wish  now  to  recall  one 
single  event  in  that  disgraceful  chapter  of  official 
weakness,  of  malignity, depravity,  and  actual  treason. 
Mr.  Lincoln  had  no  difficulty  in  the  selection  of  his 
Cabinet.  Mr.  Seward,  Governor  Chase,  Messrs. 
Cameron,  Bates,  and  Montgomery  Blair  had  been  the 
defeated,  candidates  in  the  Chicago  convention. 
They  were  therefore  the  principal  favorites  of  his 
party,  and  their  selection  as  members  of  his  official 
family  would  secure  the  party  support.  One  place 
in  the  Cabinet  he  would  have  given  to  the  South ; 
but  no  one  would  accept  it  in  whom  he  could  repose 
confidence,  and  he  would  not  appoint  any  man  to 
office  whom  he  could  not  trust.  One  of  the  remain 
ing  places  went  to  Indiana  in  fulfilment  of  a  pledge 
which,  unknown  to  him,  his  friends  in  the  nominat 
ing  convention  had  given  to  the  delegates  from  that 
State,  and  with  which  he  now  rather  unwillingly 
complied ;  the  other  to  an  acquaintance  accidentally 
made  on  his  New  England  lecture  tour. 

He  had  many  visitors,  who  were  received  with 
perfect  cordiality,  but  learned  nothing  of  his  future 
purposes.  Toward  the  end  of  January,  with  the  as- 


HIS  FAREWELL  TO  SPRINGFIELD.  387 

sistance  of  a  copy  of  the  Federal  Constitution  and  a 
speech  made  by  Henry  Clay,  he  composed  his  first  in 
augural  address,  that  official  paper,  for  the  power,  elo 
quence,  and  beauty  of  which  I  have  no  words  of  ade 
quate  commendation,  and  he  was  then  ready  to 
abandon  all  private  and  personal  interests  and  devote 
himself  wholly  and  unreservedly  to  the  service  of  his 
country. 

He  paid  his  last  visit  to  one  whom  he  loved  as  if 
she  had  been  his  own  mother.  His  parting  with  her 
was  the  close  of  his  private  life.  Henceforth  he  was 
to  live  for  his  country.  He  then  prepared  to  com 
mence  his  journey  to  the  capital,  where  he  was  to 
enter  upon  his  great  official  career. 

Historians  have  written,  artists  have  commem 
orated,  and  massive  arches  and  columns  have  pre 
served  the  story  of  triumphal  marches,  imperial  pro 
cessions,  and  royal  entries  into  great  capitals;  but 
history  records  no  journey  like  that  of  the  President 
elect  from  Springfield  to  Washington.  He  had  thus 
announced  his  faith :  "  I  know  that  there  is  a  God 
who  hates  slavery  and  injustice.  If  he  has  a  place 
and  work  for  me — and  I  think  he  has — I  am  ready ; 
I  know  that  I  am  right  because  liberty  is  right. 
Christ  teaches  it,  and  Christ  is  God."  Never  was 
farewell  more  touching  than  his  to  his  Springfield 
neighbors:  "To  this  people  I  owe  all  that  I  am; 
here  I  have  lived  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century ; 
here  my  children  were  born  and  here  one  of  them 
lies  buried.  I  go  to  perform  a  task  more  difficult 
than  that  which  devolved  upon  Washington.  Unless 
the  great  God  who  sustained  him  shall  be  with  me 
and  aid  me,  I  shall  fail.  But  if  the  same  Omniscient 
Hand  and  Almighty  Arm  that  directed  him  shall 


388  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

guide  and  support  me,  I  shall  not  fail ;  I  shall  suc 
ceed.  To  him  I  commend  you  all.  I  ask  that  with 
equal  faith  you  shall  invoke  his  wisdom  and  guid 
ance  for  me." 

Then  on  the  llth  of  February  he  began  that  jour 
ney  the  record  of  which  will  be  read  with  interest 
in  distant  centuries.  At  every  city  or  considerable 
town  he  said  something  worthy  to  be  remembered .  At 
Tolono  he  said  that,  the  clouds  were  dark,  but  the 
sun  was  shining  behind  them.  At  Indianapolis  he 
declared  that  the  gates  of  hell  could  not  prevail 
against  a  people  united  to  defend  their  country.  At 
Cincinnati,  where  were  many  Kentuckians,  he  told 
them  that  he  must  follow  the  great  examples  of 
Washington,  Jefferson,  and  Madison,  and  again  re 
ferring  to  the  great  task  he  had  undertaken,  he  said : 
"  I  turn  then  and  look  to  the  great  American  people 
and  to  God,  who  has  never  forsaken  them,  for  sup 
port."  At  Steubenville  he  declared  that  he  should 
enforce  the  right  of  the  majority  to  rule,  and  that  if 
his  policy  was  wrong  they  could  turn  him  out  at  the 
end  of  four  years.  At  Pittsburg  he  referred  to  the 
distracted  condition  of  the  country  and  announced 
his  unswerving  fidelity  to  the  Constitution.  At 
Cleveland  he  said  that  his  heart  was  glad  because 
all  parties  had  united  in  his  reception,  and  added :  "  If 
we  do  not  unite  now  to  save  the  good  old  ship  of  the 
Union  on  this  voyage,  no  one  will  ever  pilot  her  on  an 
other."  At  Buffalo,  Rochester,  Syracuse,  Utica,  Al 
bany,  Troy,  Hudson,  Poughkeepsie,  Peekskill,  New 
York  Cit}r,  Jersey  City,  and  Newark,  in  various  forms 
he  repeated  his  confidence  in  the  loyal  people  and  his 
trust  in  God  to  preserve  an  united  republic.  At  Tren 
ton  he  told,  out  of  Weems'  life  of  Washington,  the 


ON  THE  WAY  TO  WASHINGTON.  389 

story  of  the  depression  of  the  loyal  people  when  Wash 
ington  crossed  the  Delaware  and  revived  their  hopes 
by  the  victory  over  the  Hessians :  a  story  learned  in 
his  boyhood.  At  Philadelphia  the  mayor  had  re 
ferred  to  the  great  Declaration  and  the  Constitution, 
which  had  been  made  in  Independence  Hall.  Mr. 
Lincoln  seemed  to  be  treading  the  mountain  heights 
of  eloquence  when  he  replied:  "All  my  political 
warfare  has  been  in  favor  of  the  teachings  that  came 
forth  from  these  sacred  walls.  May  my  right  hand 
forget  its  cunning  and  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof 
of  my  mouth  if  I  ever  prove  false  to  those  teachings." 
We  know  now  the  solemn  sincerity  of  his  assertion 
that  sooner  than  give  up  the  promise  of  liberty  to  all 
men  made  by  that  Declaration  he  would  be  assassi 
nated.  He  predicted  that  there  would  be  no  bloodshed 
in  the  near  future,  unless  the  necessity  was  torced 
upon  the  Government,  and  then  it  would  be  shed  in 
self-defence.  Thus  he  pledged  himself  to  the  great 
Declaration  and  the  Constitution,  and  with  the 
solemnity  of  a  prophet  of  old  promised  to  live,  and 
if  it  were  the  pleasure  of  Almighty  God  to  die,  by 
their  immortal  principles. 

Where  is  there  a  word-picture  more  powerful  or 
beautiful  than  that  he  drew  at  Harrisburg,  the  last 
upon  this  journey?  It  was  the  natal  day  of  Wash 
ington.  From  Independence  Hall  with  its  crowded 
memories  his  hand  had  flung  the  Stars  and  Stripes  to 
the  golden  rays  of  the  morning  sun.  He  thanked  the 
commonwealth  for  its  friendship  to  him,  for  its  loy 
alty  to  the  republic.  He  praised  her  military,  and 
hoped  it  would  never  shed  fraternal  blood.  The  pic 
ture  was  brilliant  in  an  atmosphere  of  freedom ;  there 
was  on  it  no  spot  of  rebellion,  no  stain  of  secession. 


390  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

It  was  worthj-  of  the  time,  of  the  country,  and  of  the 
master-hand  of  Abraham  Lincoln. 

Left  to  his  own  inclinations,  Mr.  Lincoln  would 
have  left  Harrisburg  in  the  morning  of  February 
23d,  and  have  passed  through  Baltimore  about  mid 
day,  where,  unless  providentially  protected,  he 
would  have  fallen  by  the  hand  of  hired  assassins  who 
lay  in  wait  for  him.  He  listened  to  good  counsels; 
left  Harrisburg  about  six  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
arrived  in  Philadelphia,  crossed  the  city  in  a  car 
riage,  and  entered  a  sleeping-car  for  Washington 
about  twelve  o'clock  at  night.  Except  a  Scotch  cap 
which  he  usually  wore  on  the  cars  at  night,  he  was 
undisguised.  He  was  accompanied  by  Mr.  Lamon, 
who  was  to  be  his  marshal.  His  mind  was  so  com 
pletely  at  rest  that  he  fell  asleep  before  the  train  left 
Baltimore  and  slept  until  it  arrived  at  Washington. 
At  the  station  he  was  met  by  Mr.  Seward  and  Mr. 
Washburn,  and  unannounced,  unheralded,  almost  un 
attended,  Abraham  Lincoln  entered  the  capital  of  the 
republic  he  was  divinely  appointed  to  preserve. 

Washington  was  a  disloyal  city.  There  had  been 
weeks  when  loyal  men  and  women  could  not  walk  its 
streets  without  insult.  The  horde  of  soldiers  of  for 
tune  from  Maryland  and  Virginia,  attracted  thither 
by  the  promise  of  revolution  and  the  hope  of  plunder, 
and  angry  because  both  were  postponed,  dominated 
the  city.  The  count  of  the  electoral  vote  on  the  1 3th  of 
February  had  brought  a  delegation  of  active  loyal 
men  from  the  North  and  West,  who  defended  them 
selves  and  for  a  few  days  had  driven  the  drunken, 
gambling  crew  into  their  dens  and  holes.  But  the 
enfeebled  administration,  the  audacity  of  the  trai 
tors,  the  lack  of  any  defensive  organization  for  the 


RECEIVES  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE.         391 

Union,  had  so  emboldened  the  gang  that  they  had 
again  assumed  the  offensive,  and  nothing  appeared 
to  restrain  them  but  the  threat  of  General  Scott  to 
manure  the  hills  of  Arlington  with  fragments  of 
their  bodies,  blown  from  his  cannon,  if  they  dared  to 
lay  hands  upon  loyal  men  or  their  property.  But  the 
insignificance  of  his  force  was  coming  to  be  known, 
the  States  were  seceding,  the  rebels  growing  bolder, 
and  on  the  23d  of  February  the  city  was  shrouded  to 
loyal  eyes  in  gloom  and  despondency. 

No  apartments  had  been  engaged,  no  preparations 
were  made  for  the  reception  of  the  President-elect. 
Accompanied  by  Mr.  Seward  and  Mr.  E.  B.  Wash- 
burn,  he  descended  from  an  ordinary  carriage  at  the 
ladies'  entrance  to  Willard's,  waited  like  a  common 
traveller  in  the  reception-room  until  rooms  were  as 
signed  for  his  use,  and  then  his  friends  left  him. 
But  he  was  not  permitted  to  enjoy  his  seclusion. 
Twenty-four  hours  had  not  elapsed  before  the  country 
knew  that  it  had  elected  a  President  and  that  his 
name  was  Abraham  Lincoln. 

The  discovery  was  produced  by  the  "  Peace  Con 
ference,"  as  it  was  called,  which  was  then  in  session 
in  the  hall  of  Willard's  hotel.  That  conference  had 
made  a  formal  call  upon  the  outgoing  President  at 
the  instance  of  its  delegates  from  the  slave  States. 
At  the  request  of  the  delegates  from  the  free  North 
it  voted  to  call  upon  the  incoming  President,  who 
said  he  would  be  happy  to  receive  its  members  in  the 
evening  of  the  day  of  his  arrival. 

In  the  Conference  were  influential  men  from  the 
South,  who  became  afterward  prominent  in  the 
councils  of  secession.  Among  them  were  ex-Presi 
dent  Tyler,  William  C.  Rives,  James  A.  Seddon, 


392  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

Geo.  M.  Davis,  General  Zollicoffer,  and  others.  These 
gentlemen  anticipated  a  rare  evening's  entertainment. 
They  expected  to  meet  a  "rail-splitter,"  a  boor  who 
would  not  open  his  lips  without  exposing  his  ignor 
ance  ;  a  buffoon  with  a  ready  stock  of  vulgar  wit ;  a 
clown  whose  antics  would  amuse  them  and  mortify 
the  Republicans.  As  they  were  successively  pre 
sented  they  formed  a  circle  about  him,  and  each  was 
held  there  by  some  inexplicable  attraction.  They 
saw  a  tall,  powerful  man  whose  grand  face  over 
looked  them  all;  whose  voice  was  kindly,  who 
greeted  every  one  with  dignity  and  a  courteous  pro 
priety  of  expression  which  surprised  his  friends. 
Two  or  three  of  them  experimented  with  questions 
which  involved  a  slight  contemptuous  disrespect. 
Then  his  stature  seemed  to  grow  loftier  and  there 
was  a  ring  to  his  voice  and  a  flash  from  his  eyes 
which  discouraged  a  repetition  of  the  experiment. 
Except  for  these  answers  his  theme  was  the  Consti 
tution.  That  instrument  was  the  safeguard  of  the 
republic.  It  was  a  great  charter  of  liberty,  framed 
by  wise  and  prudent  men,  which  bound  the  con 
science  of  every  citizen.  He  was  about  to  renew  his 
oath  to  obey  and  enforce  it.  It  would  not  be  obeyed 
and  enforced  until  all  its  provisions  and  the  laws 
passed  by  Congress  were  enforced  in  every  State  and 
Territory  of  the  Union.  If  he  became  President  the 
Constitution  and  laws  would  be  so  enforced  to  the 
utmost  extent  of  his  power ! 

Three  well-defined  types  of  expression  were  visible 
upon  the  faces  of  his  auditors  as  these  earnest  words 
fell  upon  their  ears.  That  of  the  secessionists  was 
profound  astonishment  and  disappointment.  The 
more  able  Southerners  evinced  their  regret  for 


EFFECT  OF  HIS  ARRIVAL.  393 

having  misjudged  him;  the  faces  of  the  Northern 
loyal  men  were  ablaze  with  a  patriotic  exultation 
which  was  almost  irrepressible.  There  were  a  few 
Southern  men  whose  opinions  found  expression  in  the 
declaration  by  one  of  them,  "  If  those  are  your  prin 
ciples,  Mr.  Lincoln,  I  am  with  you  to  the  end !" 

On  our  way  to  our  apartments  after  the  close  of 
the  reception,  an  experienced  and  very  able  Southern 
statesman  said :  "  The  South  is  unfortunate ;  we  have 
been  deceived  in  Mr.  Lincoln.  We  have  been  told 
and  we  believed  that  he  was  a  reckless,  ignorant 
man,  unfit  for  the  presidency,  easily  controlled  by  bad 
men.  What  I  have  seen  to-night  convinces  me  that 
he  is  a  strong  man  who  will  have  a  strong  adminis 
tration." 

If  ten  disciplined  regiments  of  infantry  had  sud 
denly  appeared  on  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  marching 
to  the  War  Office  to  reinforce  the  few  soldiers  of  Gen 
eral  Scott,  they  would  not  have  so  inspired  the  hearts 
of  loyal  men  with  courage  and  confidence  as  did  this 
timely,  statesmanlike,  bold  announcement  by  Abra 
ham  Lincoln  of  his  purpose  to  enforce,  as  well  as 
obey,  the  Constitution  and  the  laws.  Flashed  over 
the  wires  to  the  remotest  portions  of  the  free  States, 
it  aroused  loyal  men  out  of  their  despondency  and 
thrilled  their  breasts  with  a  new  hope.  The  Almighty 
had  called  him  to  a  great  work,  and  the  loyal  country 
knew  that  Abraham  Lincoln  was  ready. 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN:  THE  DIPLOMATIST  —  THE 
MILITARY  STRATEGIST — THE  MASTER  OF  ENG 
LISH  PROSE — THE  STATESMAN  —  THE  GREAT 
PRESIDENT. 

WHO  shall  write  the  history  of  the  administration 
of  our  great  President?  Not  one  who  knew  the  true- 
hearted  man,  who  was  so  patient,  so  apt  to  teach,  so 
gentle  to  others,  that  he  inspired  in  one  who  came  in 
contact  with  him  an  undying  love  which  could 
not  fail  to  find  expression  in  his  pen.  By  and  by, 
in  another  century,  when  all  those  who  saw  his  face 
when  it  did  shine  as  the  sun  are  no  longer  to  be 
called  as  his  witnesses,  let  the  man  be  found  who 
is  his  equal  in  prose  composition,  who  is  as  just  as 
Solomon,  as  wise  as  Solon,  as  great  a  soldier  as 
Wellington,  the  Tacitus  of  his  time ;  and  let  him  be 
assigned  to  that  duty.  I  will  be  content  if  I  can  de 
scribe  some  of  the  incidents  which  made  us  so  honor 
and  love  Abraham  Lincoln. 

From  the  dome  of  the  Capitol  the  statue  of  Liberty 
looked  upon  a  great  spectacle  on  the  bright  morning 
of  March  4th,  1861.  From  the  Executive  Mansion 
to  the  Capitol  gate,  the  avenue  and  its  buildings  on 
either  side,  from  basement  to  roof ;  the  grounds  on 
the  Potomac  front ;  the  many  seats  provided  on  the 
eastern  side,  the  great  square  of  the  Columbus  statue, 
and  the  windows  of  the  Capitol — all  the  space  was  oc 
cupied  by  American  citizens.  They  were  orderly. 

394 


HIS  INAUGRATION.  395 

There  were  a  few  policemen  present — they  were  in 
citizen's  dress.  A  single  field  battery,  the  only  one 
in  Washington,  was  so  concealed  on  the  street  front 
ing  the  old  Capitol  that  only  the  few  who  were  in 
the  secret  knew  that  even  this  slight  preparation  had 
been  made  to  suppress  any  attempt  at  rebellion. 

A  small  hollow  square  formed  by  the  engineers  of 
the  regular  army,  inclosing  an  open  carriage  in  which 
rode  the  aged,  enervated,  outgoing  President,  moved 
like  a  machine  from  the  White  House  to  Willard's 
Hotel.  There  a  tall  and  -stalwart  figure,  with  an 
earnest  face  and  firm  step,  entered  the  carriage,  and 
the  procession  moved  down  the  avenue  to  the  Capitol, 
which  was  entered  at  the  Senate  door.  After  a  brief 
delay  for  the  exercises  in  the  Senate  chamber,  another 
procession  was  formed  and  marched  to  the  principal 
eastern  exit.  First  came  the  stalwart  figure,  arm 
in  arm  with  a  senator.  The  venerable  chief  justice 
and  associated  justices  of  the  United  States,  the 
diplomatic  corps  in  full  dress,  senators,  and  high 
officers  of  the  army  and  navy  followed  them.  They 
advanced  well  to  the  front,  where  a  table  had  been 
placed.  On  their  right  and  left  and  in  front  of  them, 
in  silent  expectation,  was  the  largest  audience  that 
ever  witnessed  an  inauguration.  Then,  clear  as  the 
tones  of  a  silver  bell,  the  voice  of  the  most  knightly 
man  in  all  the  land  seemed  to  fill  the  invigorating 
air,  reaching  the  most  distant  auditor,  when  the  gal 
lant  Senator  Baker  said:  "Fellow-citizens,  I  intro 
duce  to  you  Abraham  Lincoln,  the  President-elect  of 
the  United  States  of  America." 

His  first  inaugural  address  was  then  delivered. 
From  its  opening  words  to  its  beautiful  closing  para 
graph,  the  assembled  thousands  listened  with  an  ex- 


396  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

pectation  almost  painful  in  its  intensity  to  every  word 
of  this  remarkable  paper.  This  had  been  the  first 
silent  inauguration  since  the  foundation  of  the  Gov 
ernment.  When  the  President-elect  first  appeared  to 
enter  the  carriage  at  his  hotel,  there  was  an  attempt 
to  applaud,  but  it  was  not  successful.  His  long  ride 
down  the  avenue,  his  entrance  to  the  Senate  chamber , 
his  appearance  before  his  great  audience  called  forth 
almost  no  applause.  His  protest  that  he  had  no 
purpose  to  interfere  with  slavery,  his  reference  to 
the  Chicago  platform,  drew  the  attention  of  his  audi 
ence  more  closely;  his  statement  that  he  took  the 
official  oath  with  no  mental  reservations  raised  upon 
many  faces  a  look  of  hopeful  anticipation  which  grew 
more  earnest  when  he  declared  his  opinion  that  under 
the  Constitution  the  Union  of  the  States  was  perpet 
ual — it  was  perilously  near  breaking  into  sound  as  he 
enlarged  upon  this  topic — then  he  paused,  and  with 
face  and  hands  uplifted,  as  if  he  was  looking  far  into 
the  unknown  future,  with  a  voice  in  which  there  was 
no  trace  of  hesitation  or  uncertainty,  he  declared  his 
own  purpose  to  use  the  power  confided  to  him  by  the 
Constitution  to  hold,  occupy,  and  possess  the  places 
and  property  of  the  United  States,  and  to  collect  the 
duties  and  imposts,  and  then  all  the  barriers  of  doubt 
were  swept  away  and  every  loyal  breast  gave  forth 
a  shout  of  thanksgiving  which  shook  the  ground  and 
rent  the  air  like  a  pa3an  of  victory  and  freedom  sung 
by  loyal  millions  over  the  irrevocable  doom  of  re 
bellion.  The  remaining  paragraphs  of  this  remark 
able  paper  were  heard  with  increasing  evidences  of 
loyal  approval,  and  its  close  was  indescribably  pa 
thetic.  It  was  like  the  concentrated  yearnings  of  a 
mother  over  a  wayward  child. 


HIS   OATH  OF  OFFICE.  397 

With  his  left  hand  upon  the  open  Bible,  his  right 
raised  toward  heaven,  the  solemn,  earnest  voice  re 
peated  slowly  with  distinct  enunciation,  after  the 
venerable  chief  justice,  the  words  of  the  oath  to 
defend  the  Constitution :  "  I  do  solemnly  swear  that 
I  will  faithfully  execute  the  office  of  President  of  the 
United  States  and  will,  to  the  best  of  my  ability, 
preserve,  protect,  and  defend  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States,  so  help  me  God." 

Thus  Abraham  Lincoln  became  President  of  a  re 
public  from  which  seven  States  had  attempted  to 
secede,  at  an  hour  when  it  was  infested  by  treason 
and  threatened  with  armed  rebellion.  The  telegraph 
flashed  his  great  inaugural  to  the  remotest  corners  of 
the  country,  but  it  was  many  days  before  its  power 
or  the  plain  declaration  of  its  policy  was  appreciated. 
The  country  was  not  prepared  for  such  a  document. 
The  more  it  was  studied  the  more  unanswerable  it 
was  felt  to  be.  It  was  new  in  the  elegance  of  its 
composition,  but  its  principles  were  those  which  had 
long  been  advocated  by  its  author.  Still  there  was 
a  force  in  its  pointed  truths  which  captivated  the 
judgment,  although  there  were  some  loyal  Democrats 
who  did  not  yield  to  its  conclusions  until  the  blow  of 
treason  fell. 

In  the  rapid  survey  of  the  acts  for  which  President 
Lincoln  is  to  be  justly  credited  or  held  responsible,  to 
which  this  article  is  restricted,  the  reader  should 
understand,  at  the  outset  and  once  for  all,  that  for 
about  three  years  in  his  judgment  certain  proposi 
tions  had  been  firmly  established  and  were  no  longer 
open  to  argument  or  question.  One  of  these  was 
that  the  slave  power  had  determined  to  make  slavery 
lawful  everywhere  within  the  republic,  and  nothing 


398  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

would  prevent  that  consummation  but  the  destruction 
of  that  power.  In  its  success  he  knew  the  free 
States  would  never  acquiesce  until  they  were  con 
quered.  He  conscientiously  believed  that  slavery 
was  a  cruel  injustice  to  the  slave,  a  menace  of  in 
creasing  strength  to  the  republic.  By  the  clear  light 
of  his  matured  judgment  he  saw  that  for  him  the 
path  of  duty  was  the  path  of  honor ;  he  must  obey 
the  Constitution  and  enforce  the  laws ;  he  must  re 
press  rebellion  and  destroy  treason.  If  slavery  and 
armed  rebellion  must  both  perish  in  the  conflict  he 
could  not  be  held  responsible  at  the  bar  of  justice  or 
his  own  conscience,  and  it  would  still  be  true  that 
"  all  they  that  take  the  sword  shall  perish  with  the 
sword." 

It  was  most  fortunate  for  himself  and  for  the 
country  that  Mr.  Lincoln  had  constantly  in  his  mind 
this  standard  of  judgment,  which  determined  for  him 
what  he  should  and  what  he  should  not  do.  For  he 
had  an  extremely  sensitive  conscience  and  no  capacity 
to  avoid  trouble  or  escape  responsibility.  Other 
Presidents  had  acquiesced  in  questionable  precedents 
on  the  ground  that  they  were  established  by  depart 
ment  officers  who  were  alone  responsible  for  their 
continued  application.  He  never  in  such  or  any 
other  case  permitted  another  to  perform  a  duty  which 
was  imposed  upon  him  by  the  law.  If  he  had  not 
been  able  by  certain  and  fixed  principles  to  deter 
mine  questions  of  difficulty,  anxiety  and  care  would 
have  worn  out  his  life  before  the  close  of  the  second 
year  of  his  term.  In  our  judgment  of  his  acts,  then, 
we  must  never  lose  sight  of  his  convictions.  He 
knew  that  slavery  was  aiming  at  the  domination  of 
the  republic  and  would  fight  before  it  would  yield ; 


THE  CORNER-STONE  OF  THE  CONFEDERACY.     399 

therefore  in  his  mind  slavery  was  doomed  to  ex 
tinction. 

His  inaugural  address  was  denounced  by  the  dis 
loyal  press  as  warlike  and  uncompromising.  Seven 
States  had  formed  a  confederate  government.  One 
of  its  first  acts  was  to  dispatch  envoys  to  Washing 
ton  to  negotiate  for  "a  peaceful  adjustment  of  the 
questions  growing  out  of  their  political  separation." 
The  prompt  decision  of  the  President  to  deny  them 
recognition  was  communicated  to  the  envoys  by 
Secretary  Seward,  on  the  15th  of  March.  On  the 
21st,  Mr.  A.  H.  Stephens,  Vice-President  of  the 
Confederacy,  in  a  speech  in  Savannah,  Ga.,  fully 
justified  the  conclusions  of  President  Lincoln  by  pub 
licly  declaring  that  the  "foundations  of  our  new 
government  are  laid;  its  corner-stone  rests  upon 
the  great  truth  that  the  negro  is  not  equal  to  the 
white  man;  that  slavery,  subordination  to  the  supe 
rior  race,  is  his  natural  and  moral  condition.  This 
our  new  government  is  the  first  in  the  history  of 
the  world  based  upon  this  great  physical,  philo 
sophical,  and  moral  truth."  In  a  later  speech  Mr. 
Stephens  declared  that  "  the  South  was  warring  for 
political  and  social  existence ;"  that  "  the  most  im 
portant  feature  in  it  [the  Federal  Constitution]  was 
the  obligation  to  return  fugitive  slaves;"  that  he 
would  never  surrender  this  obligation,  "though 
every  valley  from  here  to  the  Potomac  should  run 
with  Southern  blood  and  every  hill-top  be  bleached 
with  Southern  bones."  He  predicted  that  "in  less 
than  three  years  Lincoln  and  his  Cabinet  would 
come  to  the  gallows  or  the  guillotine,  as  those  did  who 
led  the  French  to  war,"  and  all  the  people  of  the 
South  shouted  "Amen!"  The  envenomed  sugges- 


400  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

tions  of  the  Southern  press,  to  fire  into  the  loyal 
forts  brittle  cylinders  filled  with  stinging  snakes, 
tarantulas,  centipedes,  and  scorpions,  might  be  disre 
garded  as  silly,  but  Mr.  Stephens  was  a  statesman 
who  spoke  for  slavery  with  authority. 

President  Lincoln  neither  predicted  results  nor  at 
tempted  to  change  the  lines  of  a  conflict  fixed  by  powers 
beyond  his  control.  He  had  said  that  it  was  his  duty 
to  collect  the  revenues,  enforce  the  laws,  and  occupy 
and  possess  the  places  and  property  of  the  Govern 
ment.  To  this  present  duty  he  gave  himself  and 
used  all  the  available  resources  of  the  country.  At 
the  head  of  each  department  he  placed  the  best  man 
he  could  select  and  restricted  him  only  by  one  di 
rection  :  to  use  all  its  powers  to  aid  in  the  work  to 
which  he  was  called  and  had  undertaken  to  execute. 
He  prepared  to  reinforce  Fort  Sumter.  But  it  was 
too  late.  The  flag  of  Sumter  fell  before  the  trial  could 
be  made.  Then  the  slave  power  struck  the  blow  and 
fired  the  opening  gun  of  rebellious  war.  Before  its 
crime-infected  roar  had  reached  all  the  loyal  States,  as 
the  flag  of  Sumter  fell,  the  loyal  lightning  followed 
the  sound,  calling  seventy-five  thousand  loyal  men 
into  the  field,  and  the  Congress  to  meet  in  extraor 
dinary  session.  A  million  would  have  answered 
"  Ready"  to  the  call  of  Abraham  Lincoln.  Four  days 
later  he  proclaimed  a  blockade  of  the  Southern  ports, 
and  with  favoring  winds  a  hundred  ships  sailed  to  en 
force  it.  High  above  the  din  of  preparation  came 
another  call  for  forty-two  thousand  men  to  serve  as 
infantry  or  cavalry,  for  three  years  or  during  the 
ivar,  for  an  increase  of  twenty-three  thousand  men 
for  the  regular  army,  and  eighteen  thousand  seamen 
for  the  same  three  years'  term. 


LINCOLN  EQUAL  TO  HIS  POSITION.  401 

President  Lincoln  was  no  autocrat.  He  had  called  a 
force  sufficient  to  maintain  the  status  quo.  Now  it 
was  his  duty  to  consult  Congress.  A  great  wave  of 
loyalty  was  rolling  down  from  the  free  North.  The 
nations  saw  the  uprising  of  a  great  people,  such  as 
never  shook  the  foundations  of  the  earth  before.  It 
transcended  description.  It  was  more  than  life  to 
live  in  such  a  time  and  to  witness  it.  Lincoln  saw 
it,  and  on  the  first  day  when  Congress  met  and  could 
affirm  his  act  he  answered  it  by  another  call  for/owr 
hundred  thousand  men  and  four  hundred  millions 
of  money. 

Men  born  since  the  war,  or,  if  before,  were  of  those 
who  stayed  at  home  and  resolved  that  the  war  was 
a  failure,  have  criticised  the  President  because  he 
failed  to  appreciate  the  magnitude  of  the  conflict  and 
to  call  for  a  larger  number  of  men  to  suppress  the  re 
bellion.  Those  who  lived  at  the  time  or  can  intel 
ligently  read  its  history  know  better.  The  country 
had  been  at  peace  for  almost  fifty  years  (for  in  such 
gigantic  events  the  brush  with  feeble  Mexico  should 
not  count).  Treason  in  high  places  had  done  its 
worst  to  exhaust  the  loyal  North  and  to  strengthen 
slavery  with  Northern  resources.  In  such  a  country 
at  such  a  time  these  labors  of  President  Lincoln  dur 
ing  the  four  first  months  of  his  administration  are 
full  proof  that  he  rose  above  the  highest  level  of  his 
duty  and  earned  his  title  of  the  great  President  of  a 
free  people. 

There  was  no  concealment  of  the  policy  of  the 
President  and  his  administration.  He  defined  it  in 
his  letter  to  Mr.  Greeley  in  August,  1862.  "I  would 
save  the  Union,"  he  said;  "I  would  save  it  in  the 
shortest  way  under  the  Constitution."  Such  was 


402  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

his  estimate  of  his  duty.  By  it  he  measured  every 
act  which  occurred  to  himself  or  was  suggested  by 
others.  Was  it  right?  Would  it  tend  to  suppress 
the  rebellion  and  save  the  Union?  If  it  would,  he 
pressed  it  into  instant  service  with  all  the  strength 
he  could  command.  If  it  would  not,  arguments  in 
its  favor  made  no  more  impression  than  if  addressed 
to  a  granite  rock.  Was  the  man  proposed  the  man 
who  in  that  place  would  make  it  strongest  for  the 
Union?  If  yes,  he  received  the  appointment,  no  mat 
ter  if  he  had  spoken  contemptuously  and  was  the 
enemy  of  Abraham  Lincoln.  If  nay,  there  was  not 
influence  enough  in  the  nation  to  secure  his  appoint 
ment. 

Aggressive  war  would  tend  to  save  the  Union  by 
destroying  its  enemies.  Therefore  it  must  be  waged. 
But  war  entailed  sorrow,  misery,  death,  which 
wounded  his  great  heart,  and  therefore  no  labor  or 
sacrifice  of  his  must  be  spared  to  diminish  its  miser 
ies.  This  war  was  to  be  waged  between  citizens  of 
the  same  count  r}T,  brothers  almost;  therefore  there 
must  be  no  unnecessary  ferocity,  no  vengeance  in  it, 
and  for  those  who  laid  down  their  arms  no  punish 
ment,  no*  hard  conditions. 

Let  us  briefly  sketch  a  few  of  the  principal  acts 
of  his  official  term  and  ascertain  whether  or  not  they 
conform  to  this  outline  of  his  policy. 

He  wept  hot  tears  for  the  men  who  fell  in  the  first 
battle  of  Bull  Run,  and  his  heart  bled  for  the  wounded 
and  the  suffering;  but  he  saw  in  the  defeat  only  a 
necessary  discipline  by  the  Almighty  of  those  who 
had  exaggerated  the  strength  of  the  Northern  army 
and  under-estimated  the  work  it  had  to  do.  Not  for 
one  moment  did  he  lose  faith  in  the  result,  but  he 


THE  SURRENDER  OF  MASON  AND  SLIDELL.      403 

rose  to  the  full  appreciation  of  the  danger  and  pre 
pared  his  country  for  the  new  sacrifices  it  demanded. 

In  November,  1861,  Captain  Wilkes,  of  the  U.  S. 
steamer  San  Jacinto,  took  Mason  and  Slidell,  the 
Confederate  envoys,  out  of  the  British  mail  steamer 
Trent,  on  the  high  seas,  and  permitted  her  to  con 
tinue  her  voyage.  England  demanded  and  the 
President  ordered  their  surrender.  Captain  Wilkes 
could  only  have  justified  the  seizure  by  bringing  the 
steamer  into  port  and  securing  her  legal  condemna 
tion.  Failing  to  do  this,  his  act  became  a  trespass 
ab  initio,  and  so  incapable  of  justification.  Mr. 
Seward  made  this  point  clear  by  a  diplomatic  letter 
to  Lord  Lyons,  the  British  minister,  covering  many 
pages  of  manuscript.  Mr.  Lincoln  made  it  equally 
clear  in  the  compact  sentence,  "  Captain  Wilkes  had 
no  authority  to  turn  his  quarter-deck  into  a  court  of 
admiralty." 

From  the  fall  of  Sumter  many  strong  men  con 
stantly  pressed  the  President  to  strike  the  death-blow 
of  slavery  by  a  proclamation  of  emancipation.  His 
answer  was :  "  I  will  do  it  when  it  will  best  promote 
the  national  cause,  and  not  until  it  will  most  help  to 
save  the  Union."  Early  in  August,  1862,  he  had 
substantially  decided  to  issue  this  proclamation,  and 
he  again  put  off  the  day.  Then  Mr.  Greeley  wrote 
his  querulous  letter  almost  charging  the  President 
with  cowardice  and  bad  faith.  The  President  replied 
in  a  remarkable  and  unanswerable  model  of  official 
dignity,  argumentative  force,  and  English  composi 
tion. 

The  colored  people,  who  were  most  interested,  did 
not  share  in  Mr.  Greeley's  impatience.  They  had 
learned  in  whatsoever  opinion  Massa  Linkum  was, 


404  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

therewith  to  be  content.  A  colored  man  brought  to 
a  Treasury  officer  in  August,  1862,  the  news  of  the 
postponement  of  the  proclamation.  His  words  were 
"  Massa  Linkum  thinks  it  best  to  wait  until  we  win 
a  victory,  so  the  rebs  won't  think  it  is  a  brutal  ful- 
men."  "And  you  colored  people  must  be  greatly 
disappointed,"  said  the  officer.  "  Oh,  no,  sir !"  was  his 
cheerful,  satisfied  reply.  "O'  course  Massa  Linkum 
knows  best  when  we  should  be  made  free."  He  did 
know  best.  On  the  22d  day  of  September,  1862, 
when  the  shattered  legions  of  rebellion  were  flee 
ing  from  their  bloody  defeat  at  Antietam,  he  issued 
the  proclamation.  It  was  no  brutum  fulmen.  The 
loyal  people  gave  him  audience  unto  this  word,  eman 
cipation;  and  they  lifted  up  their  voices  and  said, 
"  Away  with  such  a  monster  from  the  earth !  It  is  not 
fit  that  he  should  live. "  And  as  they  cried  out,  slavery 
fell  by  the  hand  of  Abraham  Lincoln ! 

It  was  in  this  year  1862  that  the  letters  from  the 
President  to  the  generals  of  his  armies  began  to  ap 
pear,  which  commonly  closed  with  the  remark,  "  This 
is  what  I  think  and  not  an  order,"  but  which  so  ar 
rested  the  attention  of  military  authorities.  Masters 
of  military  science,  skilled  leaders  of  great  armies  in 
the  field,  read  those  letters  now  and  exclaim :  "  This 
man  was  greater  than  any  general  then  in  command ! 
He  was  a  military  strategist,  the  greatest  of  his  time !" 

Notable  was  his  strong  common  sense  which  gave 
Fox  to  the  navy  and  drew  Sherman  from  his  retire 
ment  to  the  command  of  armies.  He  restrained  pre 
tentious  inexperience  and  brushed  away  the  absurd 
hostility  and  contempt  of  the  regular  for  the  volun 
teer  service  in  the  army  and  navy ;  he  bestowed  the 
Christian  and  the  Sanitary  commissions  upon  the 


HIS  PROSE  COMPOSITIONS.  405 

armies ;  gave  the  Monitor  and  armored  vessels  to  the 
navjr  and  improved  arms  to  both  branches  of  the 
service. 

The  literary  world  has  had  no  superior  to  Abra 
ham  Lincoln  in  the  composition  of  English  prose. 
His  farewell  to  his  Springfield  neighbors ;  his  speeches 
at  Trenton  and  at  Independence  Hall  in  Philadel 
phia;  the  closing  paragraph  of  the  first  and  the 
whole  of  the  second  inaugural  address ;  the  speech  at 
Gettysburg;  his  letters  to  Mrs.  Bixby  and  to  Horace 
Greeley  will  not  suffer  by  comparison  with  any  Eng 
lish  prose  which  had  been  theretofore  written.  A 
competent  critic  who  has  written  an  appreciative 
volume  on  the  English  prose  of  the  present  century 
properly  selects  the  long  letter  of  August  26th,  1863, 
to  James  C.  Conkling  as  an  unexcelled  example  of 
English  prose. 

I  have  said  that  he  would  appoint  the  best  man  for 
a  place  although  he  was  his  enemy.  The  quality 
which  in  this  respect  controlled  him  has  been  called 
his  magnanimity.  He  seems  to  have  been  incapa 
ble,  in  such  a  case,  of  taking  into  account  any 
thing  but  qualifications  for  the  place.  General 
McClellan,  who  with  singular  impropriety  had  as 
serted  that  he  was  divinely  appointed  to  save  the 
country  and  had  undertaken  to  instruct  the  President 
how  to  discharge  his  duties,  had  not  hesitated  to  make 
imputations  against  him  which  were  insulting.  Yet 
he  gave  McClellan  the  command  at  Antietam, 
against  the  remonstrances  of  his  Cabinet,  because  he 
believed  that,  as  matters  then  stood,  McClellan's  ap 
pointment  was  the  best  he  could  make.  Mr.  Stanton 
in  a  domineering  manner  had  appropriated  a  posi 
tion  in  an  important  lawsuit  to  which  Mr.  Lincoln 


406  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

was  entitled,  and  he  felt  the  slight  keenly  at  the  time. 
He  did  not  remember  the  incident  when  he  made  Mr. 
Stanton  the  great  War  Secretary  and  a  member  of 
his  Cabinet.  Mr.  Chase  had  ridiculed  his  peculiar 
ities,  and  resigned  without  excuse  in  a  manner  which 
was  almost  contemptuous.  In  the  very  hour  of  his 
resignation,  when  any  but  a  great  man  would  have 
resented  the  act,  he  decided  to  make  Mr.  Chase 
Chief  Justice  of  the  United  States.  Chase  and 
Stanton  stood  by  his  dying  bed.  Sincere,  intense 
grief  silenced  the  voice  of  one;  the  other  exclaimed, 
"  There  lies  the  greatest  ruler  of  men  the  world  ever 
saw !" 

What  man  so  sensitive,  so  compassionate,  so 
tender,  was  ever  so  sorely  tried?  His  children,  and 
especially  in  his  later  life,  were  the  objects  that 
filled  up  the  measure  of  his  domestic  life.  There  was 
something  terrible  in  his  speechless,  cheerless  grief 
when  he  lost  them.  His  sorrow  over  Ellsworth,  Baker, 
and  other  near  friends  found  some  relief  in  tears.  His 
fear  lest  some  great  calamity  might  fall  upon  some 
life  through  his  neglect  took  many  hours  from  the 
rest  so  necessary  to  his  wearied  body.  He  seldom 
approved  the  death-sentence  of  a  court-martial,  and 
never  until  he  knew  all  the  facts  and  that  the  culprit 
deserved  to  die.  "You  will  destroy  the  discipline  of 
the  army  if  you  continue  these  pardons,"  remon 
strated  a  high  officer.  "You  must  get  along  some 
way,  for  I  cannot  help  doing  it,"  was  his  noble,  his 
beautiful  reply.  How  speaking  was  every  .feature 
of  his  face  when  the  captain  was  pleading  for  the 
sleeping  sentinel!  how  quick  his  resolution  himself 
to  go  and  save  him !  How  tender  that  interview, 
when  none  but  God  was  present,  and  he  talked  with 


LINCOLN  AS  A  STATESMAN.  407 

the  boy  "  about  his  mother,  and  how  she  looked  and 
how  he  ought  never  to  cause  her  a  sorrow  or  a  tear," 
and  so  changed  the  mountain  boy  into  a  hero  and 
then  gave  him  his  life !  Who  can  read  that  letter  to 
the  Boston  mother  of  five  sons,  who  all  "  had  died 
gloriously  on  the  field  of  battle  for  their  country  " 
— nay,  who  has  ever  had  one  clear,  unobstructed  view 
of  the  inner  life  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  and  does  not 
know  that  he  was  gentle  as  the  beloved  disciple  and 
that  a  tenderer  heart  than  his  never  beat  in  a  human 
bosom? 

That  he  was  a  statesman  is  now  proved  by  almost 
every  act  of  his  administration  for  which  he  was  re 
sponsible  and  which  bears  the  impress  of  his  own  hand. 
No  member  of  his  Cabinet  or  of  either  house  of 
Congress  had  at  all  times  a  clearer  view  of  the 
situation  or  of  what  measures  were  practicable  to 
suppress  the  rebellion  and  restore  the  Union.  Surely 
no  man  had  a  clearer  view  than  his  of  the  cause  of 
the  Civil  War  and  of  the  necessity  of  removing  that 
cause  in  order  to  a  lasting  peace.  His  position  as 
a  wise,  prudent,  far-seeing  statesman  stands  un 
questioned  in  the  history  of  his  time. 

He  was  a  diplomatist.  He  influenced  a  Cabinet 
composed  of  able  men  of  pronounced  and  conflicting 
opinions  to  act  as  a  harmonious  whole.  The  great 
powers  would  willingly  have  witnessed  the  fall  of 
the  republic.  But  our  ship  of  State  had  a  skilful 
pilot  and  an  able  captain.  Lord  Lyons  and  Drouyn  de 
1'Huys  met  their  equal  in  Mr.  Seward,  and  Mr. 
Lincoln  was  never  disturbed  by  the  machinations  of 
Louis  Napoleon  or  the  injudicious  threats  of  Earl 
Russell. 

He  was  a  military  strategist.     Had  his  clear  and 


408  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

wise  suggestions  been  followed  as  they  should  have 
been,  the  army  of  General  Lee  would  not  have  re- 
crossed  the  Potomac  after  Antietam  nor  after  Gettys 
burg.  His  letter  of  October  13th,  1862,  to  General 
McClellan  is  pronounced  by  competent  military 
critics  as  a  masterpiece,  which  recognized  and  dealt 
with  every  alternative,  and  which,  properlj'  executed, 
would  have  ended  the  war  in  that  year.  His  sug 
gestions  to  the  generals  in  command  were  always 
wise  and  prudent,  and  remarkable  for  their  grasp  of 
all  the  details  of  the  situation. 

He  was  a  master  of  English  composition.  His 
two  inaugural  messages,  his  address  at  Gettysburg, 
and  his  letter  to  James  C.  Conkling  of  August  26th, 
1863,  have  placed  him  at  the  very  head  of  the  Eng 
lish  writers  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

He  was  a  great  President.  Before  we  conclude 
this  brief  and  inadequate  sketch,  another  of  his 
qualities  must  be  considered. 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 

ABRAHAM   LINCOLN — THE   MAN  FULL  OF  FAITH 
AND  POWER. 

IT  remains  to  speak  of  the  most  attractive  and  al 
together  the  grandest  quality  in  the  noble  character 
of  Abraham  Lincoln :  his  simple,  constant,  undoubt- 
ing  Christian  faith.  To  those  who  are  familiar  with 
his  history  or  his  words,  any  discussion  of  this  trait 
will  seem  unnecessary.  But  there  is  a  necessity  for 
it  which  may  as  well  be  dealt  with  now  as  at  any 
future  time. 

Only  bold,  bad  men  assert  that  there  is  no  God — no 
future  life.  The  statement  is  so  shocking  that  most 
men  hesitate  to  make  it.  The  free-thinkers,  as  they 
call  themselves,  compromise  with  their  sensibilities  by 
admitting  that  there  is  a  God,  to  whom  they  deny 
all  useful  attributes,  and  a  future  life,  which  they 
say  is  free  from  all  responsibility. 

Shades  of  professed  belief  among  these  people 
are  unimportant.  To  all  intents  and  purposes  they 
are  infidels  and  the  world  so  regards  them.  They 
believe  that  they  have  no  souls  to  be  saved,  but  are 
laid  in  the  grave  like  sheep.  They  are,  as  Paul  de 
clares,  of  all  men  most  miserable.  They  love  to  in 
sist  that  those  whom  the  world  delights  to  honor  are 
as  destitute  of  faith  as  themselves.  It  seems  to  com 
fort  them  to  show  that  others  are  as  miserable  as 
themselves.  They  persist  in  the  claim  that  Abraham 

409 


410  PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 

Lincon  was  an  infidel.  They  know  that  faith  in  the 
God  of  the  Bible  has  been  comforting  to  millions ; 
that  it  has  always  made  men  better  as  well  as  happier ; 
that  where  that  belief  is  not,  there  are  the  dark  places 
of  the  earth.  They  know  that  men  love  the  memory 
of  Lincoln  because  of  his  faith  in  God.  Yet  they 
would  drag  him  down  to  their  own  level,  although  it 
should  distress  and  shock  the  world. 

Except  the  proprietors  of  this  calumny  of  his  dis 
belief  in  the  Bible  and  revealed  religion,  no  man  has 
sought  to  stain  the  memory  of  Lincoln.  His  revilers 
are  few;  they  can  be  counted  on  the  fingers  of  a 
single  hand.  They  are  all  infidels  of  course;  coarse 
grained  men,  in  whom  the  animal  strongly  predomi 
nates.  With  a  strange  perversity  they  profess  to 
admire  the  man  while  they  wound  his  friends  and 
cover  his  name  with  obloquy.  One  of  them,  who  is 
harmless  because  he  is  so  vile,  is  a  common  scold. 
Others,  whose  association  he  admitted  out  of  his 
kindness  of  heart,  are  moved  by  the  habit  of  the 
guest  who  publishes  what  he  imperfectly  gathered  at 
the  table  of  his  host,  will  be  remembered  only  for  their 
scandals  and  be  forgotten  with  them;  and  an 
other  defies  the  opinions  of  good  men  and  finds  great 
satisfaction  in  the  misuse  of  his  intellect  by  extolling 
infidel  writers  and  (to  use  his  own  expression)  in 
"pitching  into"  Moses,  our  Saviour,  and  the  re 
ligious  faith  of  our  greatest  American. 

Abraham  Lincoln  an  infidel?  It  is  time  that  this 
foul  libel,  which  crawls  in  dark  places  like  a  noisome 
reptile,  had  the  life  stamped  out  of  it  by  the  steel-clad 
heel  of  God's  eternal  truth.  Whether  in  that  furnace 
of  affliction  through  which  he  passed  when  pure  Ann 
Rutledge  died,  when  his  friends  feared  for  his  reason, 


HIS   CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  411 

there  were  not  hours  of  despondency  when  he  cried 
out,  "  There  is  no  God !  no  future,  no  justice,"  I  neither 
know  nor  care.  What  I  do  know,  what  any  one 
may  know,  is  that  he  was  afterward  clothed  and  in 
his  right  mind,  and  then  and  ever  afterward  there 
was  no  more  doubt  of  his  sublime  faith  in  an  all- wise, 
omnipotent  God  and  in  the  Bible  than  there  was 
of  his  honesty  or  his  existence. 

There  were  men,  and  some  of  them  still  live,  to 
whom  his  own  expressions  of  his  firm,  undoubting 
faith  are  among  their  dearest  memories  of  Abraham 
Lincoln.  But  they  would  despise  themselves  if  they 
should  oppose  their  personal  testimony  to  the  hear 
say  brain-dribble  of  these  infidels  and  their  wit 
nesses.  Nor  would  it  be  quite  dignified  to  follow 
the  example  of  Mr.  Greeley,  who  commenced  his 
refutation  of  a  libel  by  remarking  to  the  libeller: 
"  You  lie !  You  know  you  lie !"  The  witness  I  shall 
call  will  be  unimpeachable ;  the  world  will  accept  his 
evidence  against  all  the  infidels  who  have  been  of  all 
men  most  miserable  since  Nebuchadnezzar  did  eat 
grass  as  oxen  and  his  nails  were  grown  as  bird's 
claws.  My  witness  is  Abraham  Lincoln!  Although 
it  may  involve  some  repetition,  I  shall  bring  togther 
his  own  statements  of  his  views  of  the  Deity,  Chris 
tianity,  and  the  Bible. 

'  On  the  llth  of  February,  1861,  Abraham  Lincoln 
left  his  home  and  private  life  on  his  way  to  the 
capital  to  undertake  a  great  public  trust,  under  cir 
cumstances  of  appalling  difficult}'.  He  knew  and 
said  that  the  duty  was  greater  than  had  been  imposed 
upon  Washington  or  any  man  since  his  time.  He 
said:  "He  [Washington]  never  could  have  succeeded 
except  for  the  aid  of  Divine  Providence.  I  feel  that 


412  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

I  cannot  succeed  without  the  same  divine  aid  which 
sustained  him,  and  on  the  same  Almighty  Being  I 
place  my  reliance  for  support ;  and  I  hope  you,  my 
friends,  will  all  pray  that  I  may  receive  that  divine  as 
sistance  without  which  I  cannot  succeed,  but  with 
which  success  is  certain." 

Was  Abraham  Lincoln  a  pretender?  No  traitor, 
copperhead,  or  infidel  ever  made  that  accusation. 
Then  he  believed  in  and  trusted  Almighty  God  and  in 
the  efficacy  of  the  prayers  of  his  neighbors. 

At  Cincinnati  on  the  same  journey  he  said:  "I 
cannot  but  turn  and  look  for  the  support  without 
which  it  will  be  impossible  for  me  to  perform  that 
great  task.  I  turn,  then,  and  look  to  the  great 
American  people,  and  to  that  God  who  has  never 
forsaken  them." 

At  Albany  he  said  that  he  still  had  "  confidence 
that  the  Almighty,  the  Maker  of  the  Universe,  will 
bring  us  through  this  as  he  has  through  all  the  other 
difficulties  of  our  country." 

At  Newark,  N.  J.,  on  the  21st  of  February,  he 
said  to  the  mayor :  "  With  regard  to  the  great  work 
of  which  you  speak,  I  will  say  that  I  bring  to  it  a 
heart  filled  with  love  for  my  country  and  an  honest 
desire  to  do  what  is  right.  I  am  sure,  however,  that 
I  have  not  the  ability  to  do  anything  unaided  of  God, 
and  that  without  his  support  and  that  of  this  free, 
happy,  and  intelligent  people,  no  man  can  succeed 
in  doing  that,  the  importance  of  which  we  all  com 
prehend." 

In  Independence  Hall,  after  a  patriotic  reference  to 
the  memories  of  the  place  and  the  statement  that  he 
would  be  assassinated  sooner  than  give  up  the  prom 
ise  of  liberty  to  all  men  comprised  in  the  great 


HIS  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  413 

Declaration  there  signed,  he  concluded  thus :  "  I  have 
said  nothing  but  what  I  am  willing  to  live  by  and,  if 
•it  be  the  pleasure  of  Almighty  God,  to  die  by." 

So  much  before  he  became  President.  But  the 
Pickthanks  of  infidelity  will  say  that  these  extracts 
do  not  prove  that  he  had  any  faith  in  the  Christian 
religion  or  in  organized  systems  of  Christianity. 
The  doubting  Thomases  on  that  subject  may  be  re 
ferred  to  the  sentence  in  his  first  inaugural  address 
in  which  he  said  that "  intelligence,  patriotism,  Chris 
tianity,  and  a  firm  reliance  on  Him  who  has  never 
yet  forsaken  this  favored  land  are  still  competent  to 
adjust  in  the  best  way  our  present  difficulty." 

His  first  message  to  Congress,  on  the  5th  of  July, 
1861,  after  a  complete  statement  of  his  views  of  the 
national  duty,  closes  with  these  words : 

u  And  having  thus  chosen  our  course,  without  guile 
and  with  pure  purpose,  let  us  renew  our  trust  in 
God  and  go  forward  without  fear  and  with  manly 
hearts." 

His  message  to  the  first  regular  session  of  Con 
gress  in  December  closed  with  this  paragraph : 

"  The  struggle  of  to-day  is  not  altogether  for  to 
day  :  it  is  for  a  vast  future  also.  With  a  reliance 
on  Providence,  all  the  more  firm  and  earnest,  let  us 
proceed  in  the  great  task  which  events  have  devolved 
upon  us." 

On  the  13th  of  September,  1862,  a  deputation  rep 
resenting  the  religious  denominations  of  Chicago 
presented  a  memorial  requesting  him  to  issue  the 
proclamation  of  emancipation  at  once.  To  this  memo 
rial  he  made  a  very  temperate  reply,  and  arguments 
pro  and  con  followed.  If  he  entertained  the  contempt 
of  the  infidel  for  Christian  organization  and  work, 


414  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

here  was  an  excellent  opportunity  to  express  it.  In 
stead  of  doing  so  he  said : 

"I  have  not  decided  against  a  proclamation  of 
liberty  to  the  slaves,  but  hold  the  matter  under  advise 
ment.  And  I  can  assure  you  that  the  subject  is  on 
my  mind,  by  day  and  by  night,  more  than  any  other. 
Whatever  shall  appear  to  be  God's  will,  I  ivill 
do." 

On  the  opening  day  of  the  year  1863  he  did  pro 
claim  liberty  throughout  all  the  land  unto  all  the  in- 
habitants  thereof.  And  he  said :  "  Upon  this  act, 
sincerely  believed  to  be  an  act  of  of  justice  ...  I 
invoke  the  considerate  judgment  of  mankind  and 
the  gracious  favor  of  Almighty  God."  ^ 

On  the  24th  of  September,  1862,  referring  to  his 
announcement  of  his  purpose  to  issue  the  emancipa 
tion  proclamation,  he  said  to  his  fellow-citizens  who 
serenaded  him  in  the  Executive  Mansion :  "  What  I 
did,  I  did  after  a  very  full  deliberation  and  under  a 
very  heavy  and  solemn  sense  of  responsibility.  I  can 
only  trust  in  God  I  have  made  no  mistake." 

On  the  16th  of  November,  1862,  by  an  order  over 
his  own  signature,  he  enjoined  upon  the  officers  and 
men  of  the  army  and  navy  "  the  orderly  observance 
of  the  Sabbath,"  and  added:  "The  importance  for 
man  and  beast  of  the  prescribed  weekly  rest,  the 
sacred  rights  of  Christian  soldiers  and  sailors,  a  be 
coming  deference  to  the  best  sentiments  of  a  Chris 
tian  people  and  a  due  regard  for  the  divine  will,  de 
mand  that  Sunday  labor  be  reduced  to  the  measure 
of  strict  necessity.  The  discipline  and  character  of 
the  national  forces  should  not  suffer  nor  the  cause 
they  defend  be  imperilled  by  the  profanation  of  the 
day  or  name  of  the  Most  High."  He  also  adopted 


HIS  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  415 

the  words  of  Washington  in  a  similar  order  issued  in 
1776. 

April  10th,  1862,  after  the  bloody  battle  of  Pitts- 
burg  Landing,  because  "it  has  pleased  Almighty 
God  to  vouchsafe  signal  victories  to  the  land  and 
naval  forces,"  he  recommended  to  the  people  of  the 
United  States,  at  their  next  weekly  meeting,  that 
"they  especially  acknowledge  and  render  thanks  to 
our  Heavenly  Father  for  these  inestimable  blessings ; 
that  they  implore  spiritual  consolation  in  behalf  of  all 
who  have  been  brought  into  affliction  by  the  casualties 
and  calamities  of  sedition  and  civil  war,  and  that 
they  reverently  invoke  the  divine  guidance  for  our 
national  counsels,"  to  the  restoration  of  harmony  and 
peace. 

In  December,  in  his  message  to  the  third  session 
of  the  Thirty-seventh  Congress,  he  said : 

"We  know  how  to  save  the  Union.  The  world 
knows  we  do  know  how  to  save  it.  In  giving  free 
dom  to  the  slave  we  assure  freedom  to  the  free. 
Other  means  may  succeed;  this  could  not,  cannot 
fail.  The  way  is  plain,  peaceful,  generous,  just;  a 
way  which,  if  followed,  the  world  will  forever  ap 
plaud  and  God  must  forever  bless." 

July  4th,  1863,  after  Gettysburg,  the  President 
in  a  proclamation  of  six  lines  announced  the  great 
success  to  the  cause  of  the  Union,  and  "especially 
desires  that  on  this  day  He  whose  will,  not  ours, 
should  ever  be  done,  be  everywhere  remembered  and 
reverenced  with  prof oundest  gratitude. " 

On  the  19th  of  November,  dropping  from  his  lips 
like  lilies,  the  entranced  world  received  the  golden 
words  of  the  Gettysburg  address,  and  knew  that  the 
brave  men  who  there  gave  their  lives  that  the  nation 


416  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

might  live  had  "  not  died  in  vain ;  that  this  nation 
under  God  shall  have  a  new  birth  of  freedom,  and 
that  government  of  the  people,  by  the  people,  and  for 
the  people  shall  not  perish  from  the  earth." 

On  July  15th,  in  view  of  the  victories  and 
losses  and  domestic  afflictions  which  had  followed 
them,  he  said  it  was  "meet  and  right  to  recognize 
and  confess  the  presence  of  the  Almighty  Father  and 
the  power  of  his  hand."  He  called  on  the  people, 
"  in  the  form  approved  by  their  own  consciences,  to 
render  the  homage  due  to  the  Divine  Majesty  for  the 
wonderful  things  he  has  done  in  the  nation's  behalf, 
and  invoke  the  influence  of  his  holy  Spirit  to  sub 
due  the  anger  which  has  sustained  a  needless  and 
cruel  rebellion;  to  change  the  hearts  of  the  insur 
gents  ;  to  guide  the  counsels  of  the  Government  with 
wisdom  adequate  to  so  great  an  emergency,  and  to 
lead  the  whole  nation  through  paths  of  repentance 
and  submission  to  the  divine  will  back  to  union  and 
fraternal  peace." 

On  the  3d  of  October,  1863,  Abraham  Lincoln,  in  a 
thanksgiving  proclamation,  declared  that  the  bounties 
we  enjoyed  could  "  not  fail  to  penetrate  and  soften 
even  the  heart  which  is  habitually  insensible  to  the 
ever- watchful  providence  of  Almighty  God.  .  .  .  No 
human  counsel  hath  devised  nor  hath  any  mortal 
hand  worked  out  these  great  things.  They  are  the 
gracious  gifts  of  the  Most  High  God,  who,  while 
dealing  with  us  in  anger  for  our  sins,  hath  neverthe 
less  remembered  mercy." 

He  therefore  "  set  apart  a  day  of  thanksgiving  and 
prayer  to  our  beneficent  Father,  who  dwelleth  in  the 
heavens,  and  recommends  to  the  people  that  they 
may  commend  to  his  tender  care  the  widows,  orphans, 


HIS  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  417 

mourners,  and  sufferers,  and  implore  the  Almighty 
Hand  to  heal  the  wounds  of  the  nation." 

In  the  letter  to  J.  C.  Conkling  of  August,  1863, 
justly  reproduced  by  an  eminent  British  authority  in 
the  world  of  letters  as  one  of  the  best  specimens  of 
English  prose  of  the  current  century,  he  said  in  con 
clusion  :  "  Let  us  apply  the  means,  never  doubting 
that  a  just  God,  in  his  own  good  time,  will  give  us 
a  rightful  result." 

f  Invited,  but  being  unable  to  preside  over  a  meeting 
of  the  Christian  Commission  in  Washington  on  the 
day  it  was  held,  Mr.  Lincoln  declined  in  a  letter  in 
which  he  said :  "  I  cannot  withhold  my  approval  of  the 
meeting  and  its  worthy  objects.  Whatever  shall 
be,  sincerely  and  in  God's  name,  devised  for  the 
good  of  the  soldiers  and  seamen,  can  scarcely  fail  to 
be  blessed,  and  whatever  .  .  .  shall  strengthen  our 
reliance  on  the  Supreme  Being  for  the  final  triumph 
of  the  right  cannot  but  be  well  for  us  all."  /{ 

"  The  birthday  of  Washington  and  the  Christian 
Sabbath  coinciding  this  year,  and  suggesting  together 
the  highest  interests  of  this  life  and  of  that  to  come, 
is  most  propitious  for  the  meeting  proposed." 

He  said :  "  For  their  conduct  during  this  war  God 
bless  the  women  of  America."  At  the  close  of  the 
bloody  week  in  the  Wilderness,  on  the  9th  of  May, 
1864,  he  said  of  it:  "Enough  is  known  to  claim  our 
special  gratitude  to  God.  While  what  remains  un 
done  demands  our  prayers  to  and  reliance  on  him 
(without  whom  effort  is  vain),  I  recommend  that  all 
patriots  do  unite  in  common  thanksgiving  and  prayer 
to  Almighty  God." 

Congress  had  adopted  a  resolution  for  a  day  of 
fasting  and  prayer.     President  Lincoln  appointed  it 
27 


418  PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 

on  the  first  Thursday  in  August.  He  calls  upon  all 
who  are  in  the  service  of  the  Government  and  all 
citizens  to  unite  with  him  "  to  confess  and  repent  of 
their  sins ;  to  implore  the  compassion  and  forgiveness 
of  the  Almighty,  that  he  may  enlighten  the  nation 
to  know  and  to  do  his  will ;  that  he  might  quicken 
the  consciences  of  those  in  rebellion  to  lay  down  their 
arms,  that  peace  may  be  established  throughout  our 
borders."  Mr.  Lincoln  writes  that  he  "cordially 
concurs  with  Congress  in  the  penitential  and  pious 
sentiments  expressed  in  the  resolutions,  and  heartily 
approves  the  devotional  design  and  purpose  thereof." 

On  the  3d  of  September,  1864,  the  successes  of 
Sherman  and  his  army  and  the  other  victories  called 
forth  from  Abraham  Lincoln  another  proclamation 
of  "devout  acknowledgment  to  the  Supreme  Being, 
in  whose  hands  are  the  destinies  of  nations,  of 
thanksgiving  for  his  mercy,  and  that  prayer  be 
made  for  divine  protection  to  our  brave  soldiers  and 
for  comfort  from  the  Father  of  Mercies  to  the  sick, 
the  wounded,  and  the  prisoners,  and  that  he  will 
continue  to  uphold  the  Government." 

The  thanksgiving  proclamation  of  October  20th, 
1864,  was  of  a  similar  tenor.  His  address  on 
November  10th,  in  answer  to  a  serenade,  contained 
that  golden  sentence,  "  So  long  as  I  have  been  here  I 
have  not  willingly  planted  a  thorn  in  any  man's 
bosom, "  and  he  said :  "  I  am  duly  grateful,  as  I  trust, 
to  Almighty  God  for  having  directed  my  country 
men  to  a  right  conclusion." 

To  that  Boston  mother  of  "  five  sons  who  have  died 
gloriously  on  the  field  of  battle"  he  wrote  among  other 
comforting  words :  "  I  pray  that  our  Heavenly  Father 
may  assuage  the  anguish  of  your  bereavement  and 


HIS  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  419 

leave  you  only  the  cherished  memory  of  the  loved  and 
lost." 

^  To  Mrs.  Gurney,  the  excellent  Quakeress,  he  wrote : 
"  It  has  been  your  purpose  to  strengthen  my  reliance 
in  God.  I  am  much  indebted  to  the  good  Christian 
people  of  the  country  for  their  constant  prayer  and 
consolation,  and  to  none  of  them  more  than  to  your 
self.  The  purposes  of  the  Almighty  are  perfect  and 
must  prevail.  We  hoped  for  a  termination  of  this 
terrible  war  long  before  this,  but  God  knows  best  and 
has  ruled  otherwise.  We  shall  yet  acknowledge  his 
wisdom  and  our  own  errors.  Meanwhile  we  must 
work  earnestly.  Surely  he  intends  some  great  good 
to  follow  this  mighty  convulsion  which  no  mortal 
could  make  and  no  mortal  could  stay.  ...  I  hope 
still  to  receive  for  my  country  and  myself  your  ear 
nest  prayers  to  our  Father  in  heaven."  '/ 
ft  To  the  Presbyterians  who  had  presented  him  with 
resolutions  of  approval  he  said :  "  From  the  beginning 
I  saw  that  the  issues  of  the  great  struggle  depended 
on  the  divine  interposition  and  favor.  Relying  as  I 
do  upon  the  Almighty  Power,  with  support  which  I 
receive  from  Christian  men,  I  shall  not  hesitate  to 
use  all  the  means  at  my  control  to  secure  the  termi 
nation  of  the  rebellion,  and  with  hope  for  success." 

To  the  Methodists  he  said :  "  It  is  no  fault  in  others 
that  the  Methodist  Church  sends  more  soldiers  to  the 
field,  more  nurses  to  the  hospitals,  and  more  prayers 
to  heaven  than  any  other.  God  bless  the  Methodist 
Church.  Bless  all  the  churches ;  and  blessed  be  God, 
who  in  this  our  great  trial  gives  us  the  churches." 

To  the  Baptists  he  said  he  had  "  great  cause  of 
gratitude  for  the  support  so  unanimously  given  by 
all  the  Christian  denominations  of  the  country."  tf 


420  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

It  only  remains  to  cite  two  additional  evidences 
under  his  own  hand  of  the  faith  of  Abraham  Lincoln. 
One  is  the  second  inaugural  message,  a  composition 
so  beautiful  in  itself,  so  irresistible  in  its  demonstra 
tion  of  his  Christian  faith  that  it  deserves  to  be  en 
graved  upon  the  memory  of  every  American  citizen. 
To  quote  an  extract  from  it  would  be  to  emasculate  a 
document  in  which  there  is  no  superfluous  word.  As 
in  the  pathetic  beauty  of  its  composition  this  address 
has  no  superior,  so  in  its  faith  in  the  Bible  and  the 
just  providences  of  God  it  will  stand  forever  as  a  per 
manent  witness  of  the  Christian  faith  of  its  great 
author. 

Mr.  Lincoln  has  left  the  world  in  no  doubt  about 
his  opinion  of  the  Bible.  The  reason  why  his 
speeches  and  writings  are  so  admirable  is  because  of 
the  influence  of  the  Bible  which  pervades  them.  Here 
is  his  opinion  of  the  Book  of  Books,  first  publicly 
given  to  the  colored  men  of  Baltimore  who  presented 
him  with  a  copy  of  one  of  its  best  editions : 

"  In  regard  to  the  great  Book,  I  have  only  to  say 
that  it  is  the  best  gift  which  God  has  ever  given  to 
man.  All  the  good  from  the  Saviour  of  the  ivorld 
is  communicated  to  us  through  this  Book.  But 
for  this  Book  we  could  not  know  right  from  wrong. 
All  those  things  desirable  to  man  are  contained  in 
it.  1  return  you  sincere  thanks  for  this  very  ele 
gant  copy  of  this  great  Book  of  God  which  you 
present."  // 

If  Abraham  Lincoln  had  foreseen  that  in  the  latter 
times  there  would  be  men  to  give  heed  to  seducing 
spirits  and  speak  lies  of  his  Christian  faith,  he  could 
not  have  given  stronger  proof  of  it  than  he  has  in 
these  declarations  and  in  his  daily  life  and  conversa- 


HIS  FAITH  IN  THE  BIBLE.  421 

tion.  He  has  left  no  point  uncovered.  He  believed 
in  an  all-powerful,  all-wise,  merciful  God  who  re 
wards  the  good  and  punishes  the  wicked ;  who  hears 
and  answers  prayer ;  who  is  forgiving  to  the  penitent 
and  compassionate  to  the  sorrowing;  who  hates 
slavery  and  all  forms  of  cruelty ;  who  no  more  re 
sembles  the  good-for-nothing  Deity  of  Paine  and 
Voltaire  than  the  wooden  god  of  the  Fiji  Islander. 
His  creed  comprised  immortality  and  a  future  life  of 
conscience  and  responsibility.  He  not  only  accepted 
but  he  welcomed  the  Bible  as  the  revelation  of  God's 
will,  and  he  united  with  all  the  thinking  men  who 
have  made  frequent  use  of  its  inspired  pages,  in  the 
opinion  that  it  is  the  greatest  of  all  books,  "  the  best 
gift  which  God  has  ever  given  to  man. "  He  esteemed 
it  primarily  because  it  revealed  "  the  Saviour  of  the 
world."  His  use  of  the  Bible  appears  in  his  best 
writings;  the  second  inaugural  address  shows  how 
well  he  knew  it.  He  was  under  a  constant  sense  of 
his  responsibility  to  his  God ;  he  favored  and  assisted 
all  forms  of  Christian  organization  and  work;  he 
thanked  God  for  the  churches — for  all  the  churches. 
It  strengthened  him  to  know  that  good  men  and  good 
women  remembered  him  in  their  prayers.  On 
one  subject  his  faith  amounted  to  conviction:  the 
suppression  of  the  rebellion,  the  restoration  of  the 
Unon,  were  certain  because  they  had  been  decreed  by 
Almighty  God.  No  public  man  has  left  on  record 
so  many  and  such  conclusive  proofs  of  his  belief  in 
the  Bible  and  in  the  teachings  of  the  Bible,  comprising 
in  these  teachings  all  the  details  common  to  Christian 
systems  and  churches. 

His  libellers  say  that  Mr.  Lincoln  never  attended 
religious  exercises  or  united  with  any  church.    t)mis- 


422       '  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

sion  to  unite  with  a  church  is  no  evidence  of  a  want 
of  Christian  faith.  The  influences  are  numerous 
which  restrain  many  good  men  from  uniting  with 
a  church;  too  numerous  to  be  mentioned  here. 
But  it  would  be  singular,  indeed,  if  such  a  man  had 
not  set  the  good  example  to  others  of  attendance  on 
some  religious  services  on  the  Sabbath  day  when  not 
prevented  by  unavoidable  duties.  Therefore  its 
treasury  records  will  show  that  from  March,  1861, 
when  he  came  to  Washington,  until  the  close  of  his 
life,  more  than  four  years  afterward,  he  was  a  pew- 
holder  and  a  reverent  worshipper  in  the  Presbyterian 
church  on  New  York  Avenue,  between  Thirteenth 
and  Fourteenth  Streets,  of  which  the  Rev.  P.  D. 
Gurley,  D.  D. ,  was  the  pastor.  That  he  was  a  regular 
attendant  there  on  Sabbath  mornings  is  a  fact 
known  to  a  very  large  congregation  of  residents  of 
and  visitors  to  the  capital ;  to  none  better  than  to  the 
writer.  Dr.  Gurley,  his  beloved  pastor,  who  had  been 
his  comforter  in  many  sorrowful  hours,  was  on  his 
knees  by  the  President's  bedside  in  audible  prayer 
when  invisible  saints  and  angels  bore  his  great  soul 
to  the  God  in  whom  he  trusted. 

Voltaire  and  Paine  are  the  standards  by  which  the 
free-thinkers  love  to  compare  Mr.  Lincoln.  It  is 
possible  that  their  disciples  may  discover  in  some  in- 
frequented  corner  of  their  writings  evidence  that 
Voltaire  and  Paine  believed  in  some  kind  of  im 
mortality  and  in  a  God  for  which  they  had  but 
little  use.  But  men  are  the  architects  of  their  own 
reputation.  These  gentlemen  have  made  theirs. 
They  have  made  the  world  accept  them  as  deists, 
scoffers  at  religion,  contemners  of  all  Christian  or 
ganization  and  work ;  who  abhorred  churches ;  who  re- 


OTHER  WITNESSES  OF  HIS  FAITH.  423 

jected  the  Bible  and  all  divine  revelation.  They  are 
supposed  to  have  been  infidels  of  a  blind  and  sense 
less  perversity  in  refusing  belief  in  anything  Chris 
tian.  To  compare  'Abraham  Lincoln  with  such  men 
is  wicked — as  wicked  as  blasphemy.  He  was  as  far 
apart  from  them  as  the  east  is  from  the  west ;  as  far 
superior  to  them  as  the  heaven  is  high  above  the 
earth. 

Farther  proof  would  be  wasted.  None  but  those 
who  wish  to  deceive  themselves  in  the  face  of  his 
words,  his  acts,  and  his  daily  life  will  believe  that 
Mr.  Lincoln  was  a  deist,  an  infidel,  or  a  disciple  of 
Paine  and  Voltaire.  If  they  will  not  accept  his  own 
evidence,  if  they  hear  not  Moses  and  the  prophets, 
neither  will  they  be  persuaded  though  one  rose  from 
the  dead. 

Should  it  become  necessary  to  resort  to  the  descrip 
tion  of  hearsay  evidence  upon  which  the  charges  of 
infidelity  are  exclusively  founded,  those  who  love  the 
fame  of  Lincoln  will  find  themselves  compassed  about 
with  a  great  cloud  of  witnesses,  who,  lest  their 
testimony  might  be  lost,  have  entered  it  upon  a  per 
manent  record.  Newton  Bateman,  in  1861  the  Super 
intendent  of  Public  Instruction  in  Illinois ;  Dr.  Hol 
land,  Noah  Brooks,  Schuyler  Colfax,  General 
Wadsworth,  H.C.  Deming,  of  Connecticut,  Sojourner 
Truth,  and  the  Rev.  Drs.  J.  C.  Thompson,  Bellows, 
and  Vinton,  and  a  multitude  of  others  have  left  on 
record  material  evidence. 

The  extract  which  follows  is  scarcely  an  exception 
to  my  purpose  to  restrict  the  evidence  of  Mr.  Lincoln's 
view  of  Christianity  to  his  own  statements.  Isaac 
N.  Arnold  was  no  stranger  to  me.  He  possessed 
some  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  best  qualities ;  for  example,  his 


424  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

kindness  of  heart  and  amiability.  No  man  knew 
Mr.  Lincoln  more  appreciatively  than  Mr.  Arnold. 
He  had  known  him  from  the  time  he  came  to  the 
bar;  had  been  many  times  associated  with  him  as 
counsel,  and  they  had  been  close  friends.  Mr.  Arnold 
had  "  wintered  and  summered"  with  him  and  was  con 
sulted  by  him  frequently  while  he  was  President.  I 
know  of  no  man  who  enjoyed  his  confidence  more 
thoroughly,  who  had  studied  his  character  more  pro 
foundly,  or  who  could  speak  more  accurately  of  his 
religious  views  than  Mr.  Arnold.  Yet  I  would  not 
call  him  as  a  witness  if  he  had  not  furnished  the 
proof  of  his  own  conclusions. 

f  *  Mr.  Arnold  says  of  him  what  his  writings  prove : 
"  He  knew  the  Bible  by  heart.  There  was  not  a 
clergyman  to  be  found  so  familiar  with  it  as  he. 
Scarcely  a  speech  or  paper  prepared  by  him  but  con 
tains  apt  allusions  and  striking  illustrations  from  the 
sacred  book."  " No  more  reverent  Christian  than  he 
ever  sat  in  the  executive  chair,  not  excepting  Wash 
ington.  He  was  by  nature  religious ;  full  of  religious 
sentiment.  It  is  not  claimed  that  he  was  orthodox. 
For  creeds  and  dogmas  he  cared  little.  But  in  the 
great  fundamental  principles  of  the  Christian  religion 
he  was  a  firm  believer.  Belief  in  the  existence  of 
God ;  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul ;  in  the  Bible  as 
the  revelation  of  God  to  man;  in  the  efficacy  and* 
duty  of  prayer ;  in  reverence  toward  the  Almighty 
and  in  love  and  charity  to  man,  was  the  basis  of  his 
religion." 

l(  After  referring  to  some  of  the  written  proofs  of 
Mr.  Lincoln's  views  above  cited  and  his  letter  to  his 
sick  father  written  in  January,  1851,  Mr.  Arnold 
gives  the  creed  of  the  President  in  his  own  words : 


EVIDENCE  OF  MR.    ARNOLD.  425 

"I  have  never  united  myself  to  any  church,  be 
cause  I  found  difficulty  in  giving  my  assent,  without 
mental  reservation,  to  the  long  and  complicated  state 
ments  of  Christian  doctrine  which  characterize  their 
articles  of  belief  and  confessions  of  faith.  When 
any  church  will  inscribe  over  its  altar,  as  its  sole 
qualification  for  membership,  the  Saviour's  condensed 
statement  of  the  substance  of  both  law  and  gospel 
(the  golden  rule) ,  that  church  shall  I  join  with  all 
my  heart  and  soul."  '' 

"When,"  continues  Mr.  Arnold,  "the  unbeliever 
shall  convince  the  people  that  this  man,  whose  life 
was  straightforward,  truthful,  clear,  and  honest,  was 
a  sham  and  a  hypocrite,  then,  but  not  before,  may 
he  make  the  world  doubt  his  Christianity." 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  the  germs  of  the  false 
hood  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  infidelity  cannot  be  annihilated 
once  for  all.  But  it  is  difficult  to  destroy  such  a  false 
hood.  Remains  of  the  poison  will  survive  and  occa 
sionally  find  some  diseased  brain  where  they  may 
rest,  multiply,  and  create  an  offensive  local  suppu 
ration.  But  it  cannot  spread  among  the  American 
people.  A  public  service  of  his  country  and  al 
mighty  God,  guided  by  the  gospels  of  our  Saviour, 
which  began  in  his  letter  to  his  sick  father  in  1851 
and  ended  with  his  last  proclamation  for  a  national 
thanksgiving,  has  so  enshrined  the  memory  of  Lin 
coln  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen  that  it  can 
neither  be  clouded  by  falsehood  nor  defaced  by  time. 

The  attentive  reader  of  the  letters,  documents,  and 
reported  speeches  of  Mr.  Lincoln  will  be  impressed 
with  the  compactness,  force,  and  beauty  of  his  sen 
tences.  Immediately  after  his  death  the  extreme  rarity 
of  his  autograph  notes  and  letters  became  noticeable. 


426  PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 

Except  those  of  an  official  character,  they  are  scarcer 
and  more  difficult  to  procure  than  those  of  any  other 
President,  not  excepting  Washington.  The  finish  of 
his  prose  and  the  scarcity  of  his  unofficial  autographs 
are  both  evidences  of  the  depth  and  thoroughness  of 
his  character.  He  never  spoke  from  a  manuscript, 
yet  he  never  wrote,  spoke,  or  thought  extemporane 
ously.  To  remove  his  doubts  about  a  word  he  solved 
all  the  problems  of  Euclid.  His  mastery  of  the 
whole  subject  of  slavery  was  equalled  by  none  of  its 
votaries.  It  was  his  custom,  reclining  in  a  quiet 
room,  to  repeat  the  different  forms  of  expressing  the 
same  idea.  It  has  been  said  that  he  wrote  the  Gettys 
burg  address  with  a  lead-pencil  on  the  cars  riding 
to  the  battle-field.  Possibly — and  yet  it  would  not 
follow  that  he  had  not  expended  as  much  time  and 
thought  over  its  few  lines  as  Mr.  Everett  had  upon 
his  ornate  oration. 

Abraham  Lincoln  was  great  because  he  was  an 
honest,  thorough,  faithful  Christian  man.  He  was 
the  man  whom  God  raised  up  to  save  the  Union  and 
to  set  before  the  world  a  great  example.  To  us  who 
were  his  witnesses,  he  was  a  man  called  and  assigned 
to  a  mighty  work,  thoroughly  conscious  that  he  was 
God's  instrument  to  do  that  work;  to  the  last  hour 
of  the  republic  he  should  serve  as  an  example  of  the 
highest  type  of  the  statesman,  patriot,  citizen,  in  a 
government  of  the  people.  I  have  written  this  sketch, 
not  as  an  attempt  at  his  biography,  but  as  a  witness 
to  the  truth  and  to  commend  his  life  to  the  study  of 
my  countrymen. 

Was  he  our  greatest  American?  Was  he  greater 
than  Washington?  I  do  not  know.  Such  inquiries 
do  not  concern  me.  What  I  do  know  is  that  they 


WASHINGTON  AND  LINCOLN.  427 

lived  at  different  times,  under  different  conditions, 
and  were  endowed  with  different  qualities.  They 
were  both  great  men.  But  they  are  neither  rivals  nor 
competitors  in  American  history  nor  in  the  Ameri 
can  heart.  The  noble  form,  majestic  presence,  and 
patriotic  example  of  Washington  have  lost  none  of 
their  force  upon  the  American  mind  by  the  lapse  of 
one  hundred  years.  The  strong  face  of  Lincoln 
grows  more  beautiful,  his  rich  voice  more  musical, 
his  perfect  sentences  more  powerful  as  they  are  seen 
and  heard  only  in  our  memories.  Hand  in  hand 
and  side  by  side  Washington  and  Lincoln  will  grow 
in  influence  and  power  as  they  recede  into  the  past. 
One  will  always  be  known  as  the  Father,  the  other 
as  the  Saviour,  of  his  country ;  and  so  long  as  patriot 
ism,  integrity,  and  virtue  are  honored  among  men, 
so  long  shall  the  memories  of  both  be  venerated  and 
that  of  our  Lincoln  be  tenderly  loved. 


THE   END. 


INDEX. 


Adirondack  fishing  days,  148 

Adirondack  Woods,  Vandalism 
in,  159  ;  Importance  to  water- 
supply  of  Hudson  valley,  160  ; 
Necessity  for  protection  of, 
163 

Albemarle,  the  ram,  Sinking 
of,  311 

Allen,  Gen.  Ethan,  his  daugh 
ter  enters  a  convent,  79 

Allen,  Fanny,  the  beautiful 
American  Nun,  83 

Armory,  Burning  of,  in  Savan 
nah,  260 

Armstrong,  Jack,  his  fight 
with  Lincoln,  353 

Artist,  An  American,  and  his 
Scotch  wife,  141 

Auditor,  Opinion  of  a  "hold 
over,"  318 

Bar  supper,  The  annual,  205, 
219 

Barn- Burners,  The  New  York, 
12 

Banks,  A.  skilful  fraud  on  Ver 
mont,  29  ;  A  way  to  swindle 
with  fraudulent  notes,  54; 
State  effect  of  National  Cur 
rency  Act  on,  96 

Bank  swindler,  How  to  know 
a,  26 


Bang,  a  favorite  Irish  setter, 
178,  181 

Barber,  Edward  D. ,  the  poet  of 
Free  Soil,  206 

Barn  and  other  swallows,  111 

Barney,  Valentine  and  Elisha, 
277 

Bear,  how  I  lost  one  in  the 
Adirondacks,  144 

Beckwith,  Gen.  Amos,  Sher 
man's  Quartermaster,  255 

Bench  and  bar,  Early,  of  Ver 
mont,  18 

Bennett,  Milo  L.,  a  Vermont 
judge,  200 

Bible,  Mr.  Lincoln's  opinion 
of  the,  421 

Birds,  Notes  on,  101,  106 

Blair,  Francis  P.,  letter  on 
Lincoln's  death,  243 

Book  chase,  The,  279 

Book  thieves,  their  work,  295 

Book-account,  Action  of,  209 

Boom  case,  The,  330 

Bradley,  William  C.,  Mr.  Van 
Buren's  opinion  of,  15 

Bramble,  Hiram,  his  wife  and 
his  trials,  170,  174,  176 

British  captain,  A  disap 
pointed,  254 

Bronx  River,  its  diminution, 
166 


429 


430 


INDEX. 


Bryant,  W.  C. ,  on  Diminution 

of  Streams,  1P7 
Bucking  the  tiger  in  Nevada, 

135 
Buffalo  Convention,   1848,  Call 

for,  16 
Bulwagga  Bay,  Duck-shooting 

in,  182 
Burlington,    her    misfortunes, 

201 


Cabinet  officers,  Lincoln's  rea 
son  for  their  selection,  386 

Cartier,  Jacques,  his  men  cured 
of  scurvy  by  an  Indian,  196 

Case,  A  celebrated,  200 

Catholicism,  Fanny  Allen's 
conversion  to,  88 

Chase,  Secretary,  his  policy,  90 

Champlain,  Autumn  on,  169 ; 
Game  on,  185 

China,  "La  Chine,"  supposed 
to  be  by  Cartier 's  men,  196 

Chipman,  George,  a  side  judge 
and  a  gentleman,  206 

Chipman,  Daniel,  an  early  Ver 
mont  lawyer,  22 

Client,  A  grateful,  53 

Circumstantial  evidence,  Dan 
gers  of,  330 

Cold  River  and  its  trout  in 
1846,  148 

Collamer,  Hon.  J.,  assists  in 
Bank  Act,  98 

College  graduate,  A,  mining 
in  Nevada,  129 

Colored  people  following  Sher 
man's  army,  267 

Colored  pilot  on  the  Savannah 
River,  204 


Comanche  Indians,  how  best 
disposed  of,  118 

Contempt  of  court  goes  unpun 
ished,  214 

Contrast,  The,  the  first  Ameri 
can  play,  287 

Crow  family,  The,  habits  of, 
102 

Gushing,  Lieut. ,  sinks  the  Albe- 
marle,  311 

Cooper  Institute  speech,  Lin 
coln's,  381 

Conkling,  J.  C.,  Lincoln's  let 
ter  to,  405 


Dams  on  Adirondack  rivers, 
their  injury,  163 

Deer,  Floating  for,  141 

Democratic  Convention  in  Ver 
mont  in  1848,  4 

Dialects,  Canuck-French  and 
Yankee,  169 

Douglas,  debate  with  Lincoln, 
374 

Duck-shooting  in  East  Creek, 
175 

Dunderberg,  The  ram,  sold  to 
Russia,  313 


Eagle,  The  white-headed,  a 
robber,  225 

East  Creek,  Duck-shooting  in, 
175 

Emancipation  Proclamation, 
The,  403 

Engineering  taught  by  swal 
lows,  113 

Essex  Junction,  its  miseries, 
202 


INDEX. 


431 


Faro,  A  game  of,  and  its  re 
sults,  136 

Fires,  Forest,  and  their  inju 
ries,  163 

Fisher,  Fort,  Second  attack  on, 
249 

Flood  wood,  The  Vermont,  47 

Forests  destroyed  for  charcoal, 
160 

Fox,  Capt.  G.  V.,  his  charac 
ter,  107 

Free  Soil  Party,  Origin  of,  1 

Free  Soil  Courier,  Publication 
of,  9 


Gambler,  A  Western,  126 

Geary,  General,  his  division 
in  Savannah,  132 

Goesbriand,  Bishop,  of  Ver 
mont,  his  cathedral,  81,  89 

Greaser,  a  Mexican,  A  chase 
for,  117 

Greenbacks,  their  first  issue, 
95 

Green  Eiver  Station,  a  tender 
foot,  116 

Greeley,  Horace,  The  Presi 
dent's  letter  to,  404 

Grizzly  Gulch  under  Lynch 
law,  132 

Gurowski,  Adam,  his  notes,  320 

Gurley,  Rev.  P.  D.,  Lincoln's 
pastor,  420 


Hall,  Mr.  and  Mrs. ,  their  spir 
itualism,  70 

Harrington,  Theophilus.on  title 
to  a  slave,  21 

Hatteras  Inlet,  Fishing  in,  263 


Haynes,  Rev.  Lemuel,  a  col 
ored  minister,  335 

Hog  Island,  Teaching  school 
on,  269-273 

Hough,  Prof.  John,  his  criti 
cism,  285 

Hudson  River,  its  diminution 
from  forest  destruction,  165 

Hypnotism,  Experiences  in,  70 

Indian  medical  remedies,  196 
Inaugural    address,   Lincoln's, 

396 
Italy,    Destruction    of   forests 

in,  166 

Judges,  Early  Vermont,  19 
Judges,  Wooden  side,  44 

Keyes,  Elias,  Anecdote  of,  20 

Law,  a  progressive  science,  328 

Law  and  order  at  a  discount  in 
a  mining  country,  130 

Lecompton  fraud,  372 

Lincoln,  Abraham,  Notes  on  the 
day  of  his  death,  236 ;  Effect 
of  his  death  in  New  York, 
242 ;  Blair,  F.  P. ,  letter  on, 
243  ;  Clears  a  steamer  for  Sa 
vannah,  247;  How  he  rein 
forced  Grant,  315 ;  A  wood- 
chopper,  316  ;  His  origin  and 
early  life,  340  ;  His  ancestors, 
344  ;  His  books,  347  ;  His  fail 
ures,  349  ;  Was  he  a  rail-split- 
ter?  350;  His  fight  with 
Armstrong,  353;  His  success 
as  a  lawyer,  356;  Defends 


432 


INDEX. 


youDg  Armstrong,  358 ;  His 
popularity,  365 ;  A  popular 
speaker,  367;  His  letter  to 
Joshua  Speed.  370  ;  His  study 
of  slavery,  377;  Opposes  Le- 
compton  fraud,  372 ;  His  "  Di 
vided  House"  speech,  375  ;  His 
debate  with  Douglas,  374  ;  His 
reply  to  Douglas  in  Chicago, 
375  ;  His  speeches  in  Ohio  in 
1859,  379 ;  Speeches  in  Kan 
sas  and  in  Cooper  Institute, 
New  York,  381 ;  Nominated 
for  the  Presidency,  383 ;  His 
election,  356  ;  His  first  inau 
gural,  387;  Farewell  to 
Springfield,  388;  Arrives  in 
Washington,  390 ;  Receives 
the  Peace  Conference,  391 ; 
Delivers  his  first  inaugural, 
395  ;  Takes  the  oath  of  office, 
397;  His  pardons,  406;  His 
prose  composition,  406 ;  His 
Christian  faith,  409;  His 
opinion  o  f  the  Bible,  421 ; 
His  attendance  at  Dr*  Gur- 
ley's  church,  421 
Lindenwald,  A  day  at,  in  1848, 

14 

Long  Lake  in  1846,  139 
Lynch  law,  An  execution  by, 
123 


McCook  family,  The  fighting, 

306 

Maeck,  Jacob,  attorney,  199 
Magazines,  Early,  in  Vermont, 

284 
Malaria     in    Tuscany    which 

swallows  avoid,  166 


Medicine,      the     "  Ecolectic " 

school,  191 
Militia  Act  of  the  Third  House, 

49 
Minister  and  his  boys  in  the 

forest,  140 

Miracle,  A  Vermont,  81 
Monte,  A  game  of,  128 
Moosalamoo  Bank  charter,  37 
Moose    Creek,    Floating    for 

deer  in,  145 
Mosby   "can't  have   them 

bosses,"  325 
Murder  in  a  mining- camp,  126  ; 

Statistics  of,  137 
Murderer,  Swift  punishment 

of  a,  136 

Needham,  Horatio,  206 

New  England,    Diminution  of 

rivers  in,  160 
New    York,    ill-treatment    of 

Croton  water- shed,  168 
Niles,   Nathaniel,   his  Sapphic 

ode,  287 

Official  influence,  Value  of,  231 
Omaha    railroad    station,    An 

incident  in,  114 
Osborne,  W.,  Murder  of,  128 
Ospreys  and  their  habits,  223 
Otter  Creek,  Little,   incidents, 

169 
Owls   and  their  peculiarities, 

221 

Pacific  Railroad  travel,  Early, 

114 
Pamphlets,    their  short   lives, 

239 


INDEX. 


433 


Partridge,  common  name  of 
ruffed  grouse,  105 

Peace  Conference  calls  on 
President  Lincoln,  392 

Phelps,  Hon.  Samuel  S.,  Mr. 
Webster's  opinion  of,  18 

Phelps,  Edward  J. ,  a  Vermont 
lawyer,  80 

Pierpont  Brothers,  Robert  and 
John,  18,  206 

Pigeon,  The  passenger,  its  dis 
appearance,  107 

Pitkin,  Perley  P.,  a  Vermont 
quartermaster,  323 

Pliny,  Medical  remedies  of,  194 

Porpoises,  how  do  they  com 
municate?  264 

Presents  to  Treasury  officers,  228 

Privilege,  The  quack's,  190 

Profits  of  office,  234 

Prout,  John,  who  "made  all 
the  noise, "  206 

Quack,  A  typical,  189 
Quacks  and  quackery,  186 

Railroad  engineering  taught  by 

birds,  113 
Ramon,    Jesus,     a    Mexican 

Greaser,  117 
Railroads,   Early,  in  Vermont, 

198 
Robinson,  Rowland,  his  books, 

169 
Rushlow,  Captain,  one  of  my 

scholars,  278 

Sabattis,  Mitchell,  Adirondack 
guide,  141,  146,  156 
28 


"Sanders'  Indian  Wars,"  its 
rarity,  282 

Savannah  in  winter  and  in  war, 
246,  260 

"Scrap"  in  a  Nevada  faro 
game,  135 

Scientific  navigation  by  a  coast 
ing  captain,  251 

School -teaching  on  Hog  Island, 
272 

Seymour,  "Squire"  Horatio, 
father  of  the  bar,  206 

Sherman  and  his  army  in  Sa 
vannah,  259 

Slavery,  changes  in  its  policy, 
376  ;  The  corner-stone  of  the 
Confederacy,  399 

Smalley  family,  The,  329 

Snipe,  English,  their  habits, 
180,  196 

Speed,  Joshua,  Lincoln's  letter 
to,  370 

Spinner,  Francis  E. ,  his  char 
acter,  317 

Spiritualism  and  its  mediums, 
70 

Spooner,  Judah  Paddock,  first 
Vermont  printer,  287 

Stage  held  up  by  robbers,  132 

Stanley,  Marcus  Cicero,  detec 
tive,  55 

Stolen  drawings  of  old  masters, 
296 

Suffolk  Bank  and  its  president, 
27 

Swallows,  their  habits,  109 

Switzerland,  Destruction  of 
forests  in,  166 

Swanton,  Teaching  school  in, 
276 


434 


INDEX. 


Teal,  blue-winged  and  green- 
winged,  Flight  of,  175 

Telegraphic  message,  A  pecu 
liar,  114,  120 

Third  House,  The,  in  Vermont, 
33,  49,  51 

Thompson,  John,  organises 
First  National  Bank,  99 

"  Ti"  Creek,  Shooting  in,  181 

Tiger,  Bucking  the,  in  Nevada, 
135 

Tilden,  Samuel  J.,  a  Barn- 
Burner,  15 

Treasury,  U.  S.,  condition  in 
1861,  90;  Experiences  in,  228 

Trent  case,  The,  403 

Tunnel,  A  new  railroad,  103 

Tuscany,  Destruction  of  for 
ests  in,  166 

Tyler,  Royal,  author  of  "The 
Contrast,"  287 

Unique  books  do  not  exist, 
292 


Unlicensed  sale  of  liquors,  211 
Valentine,  Basil,  his  last  will, 

194 
Van  Buren,  Martin  and  John, 

11 
Vermont,  Early  bench  and  bar 

of,  18 
Vernon,  Mount,  Washington's 

plan  of,  294 

Wade,  Ben,  opposes  Lincoln's 

renominatiou,  314 
Wadsworth,     Gen.    James   S., 

303,  322 
Washington    in    Marcb     "861, 

390 
Washington,  George,  sale  of  his 

books,  etc.,  290,  293,  341 
Wether  by,  Alonzo,  an  Adiron 
dack  guide,  141 
Wilson,   Thomas  B.,  Story  of, 

54,  67 
Yale    graduate,  a    miner  and 

judge  in  Nevada,  130,  136 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


RENEWED  BOOKS  ARE  SUBJECT  TO  IMMEDIATE 
RECALL 


UCD  LIBRARY 
DUE  JUN  5    1973 

NOV  2  8  RE(TD 


LIBRARY,  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  DAVIS 

Book  S1ip-10m-l,'63(D5068s4)458 


266727 


Chit tender,  L.E. 

Personal  reminiscenced 


Call  Number: 


EU5.7 


Ch  \ 


266727 


